Oh Silent Prayer Of My Thoughts
by BatThing
Summary: After a large bombing in Gotham City, Robin finds himself in an odd situation: living with Commissioner Gordon. New Chapter: ENDING after five years, it's finished. I've never been this sad over finishing a fanfiction.
1. Chapter One

"You come into the threshold of another starless night of fear. You're running from the demons that would.. drag you down again. Illusions of the world are spinning out of time and frame. What is. what is this? This mass of my existence is? All these politics of life and death. it's my existence." -Kevin Max 'Existence'  
  
  
  
Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts  
  
By: The Batthing  
  
  
  
Robin somersaulted through the air. His body was in perfect form as he came toward the thug. He came out of the summersault, which had gained him more speed, and then brought out his left leg sharp into the man's jaw. Robin then landed to the ground in a crouch. He spun his body and hit the man's legs out from under him.  
  
The man fell to the ground hard, and the ground shook as he crashed into it.  
  
Robin performed a back flip and spun around facing the other two men who worked with the one Robin had just brought down. A small smirk became painted on his face as the two in front of him came fast, ready to try and stop Robin.  
  
"You learn not to mess with us man, we crush you." One growled. His words were slurred and seemed to come from a drunken man.  
  
Robin sprang into the air and brought both hands into one big tight fist and hit the man under the chin. "Try and teach me." He then turned fast at the other man. Robin brought the heel of his foot onto the man's toes, crushing them, then brought his knee sharp into the man's gut. Robin then lifted his hand and hit the man under the chin, knocking him down.  
  
The man spit out blood from his mouth, and looked up as a shadow came over him. It was The Batman. The man gasped.  
  
"You messed around in the wrong city." Batman hissed. He then knocked the man out.  
  
Robin smirked as he tied the man up. "Thanks for the help."  
  
Batman didn't speak and he didn't have to, his eyes said everything.  
  
Robin coughed uneasily and then stood up. "Where to next?" The question was slow, and simple.  
  
Batman eyed his partner, and then pulled out his grappling hook. "The Northern Docks." He shot it off and rose into the air.  
  
Robin pulled out his own and followed.  
  
*********  
  
Robin pulled hard on his cable, causing his direction to change. Batman swung ahead of him, fast. Robin let go of his cable and followed Batman into a complete head dive, toward the buildings below. Robin didn't need a command from Batman. He simply knew to take out his other grappling hook. He took it out quick and shot it off, he felt the cable tighten and jerk as he was lifted back up. He glanced below and watched as Batman did the same. Suddenly an explosion came over the city, and Robin found himself falling in the air, plunging to the deadly streets below. The speed caused his eyes to water. All round him particles were falling.  
  
Suddenly Robin felt an arm around him, and he knew it was Batman. The air was knocked out of him by the quick catch, and then another shake came, another loud bang. Robin felt Batman's grip come undone, and Robin fell again. He hit the roof of a building hard and yelped out from the pain. He groaned and heard something fall beside him, and then something else.  
  
  
  
Robin lifted his head and saw two big boulders at both his sides. Robin's eyes widened as he looked into the sky and saw one fall right for him. He jumped out of the way and rolled as it hit. Robin breathed hard as he stood, pain filled his body as he did so. Then there was another loud rumble and a shake, it causing Robin to fall to his feet. Screams could be heard over the noise of breaking boulders from buildings. Robin looked up and saw people falling through the air, their arms clinging to nothing, as if it were something. He suddenly remembered Batman, where was Batman?  
  
Robin got to his feet, butterflies in his stomach. He dug in his belt and pulled out his grappling hook. He took off in a run and then released the cable as he flew off the building in a jump. His arm outstretched and caught a victim that was being hurled toward the ground. It was a young woman, and Robin's arms seemed to be pulled from their sockets from catching her. He swung to a roof that looked stable, unlike many around them. Robin pulled back the cable, it was his last and he would need it. He then jumped off the building and sailed through the air, gravity pulling him. A man, no older then Nightwing, was falling, screaming as he did so. Robin outstretched his arm to catch the man, but the man was much too afraid to be thinking. Robin watched as the man hit the ground, shooting the grappling hook, Robin swung up, missing the street. He rose up fast, and grabbed at an elderly man who was falling. Robin jerked hard on the cable, swinging out toward the man. He caught him and then grunted as the air left his body. Robin landed on a roof and let the man go. He then turned and saw three more people in the air. They all hit the ground as soon as Robin laid eyes on them. Below many bodies lay scoured about, along with a lot of ruble.  
  
Robin turned and left the old man where he sat quivering. He had to find Batman.  
  
  
  
**************  
  
Commissioner James Gordon ran toward his car as the ruble crashed to the ground all around him. He quickly ducked into it and watched as others did the same. Starting the car he quickly made his way to cover from the falling people and boulders. He prayed a silent prayer for Barbara, hoping she would live through this.  
  
  
  
Robin cursed under his breath as he limped away from the pile of dead bodies and building parts. He had been searching for Batman for over three hours. Gotham had obviously been bombed and many people lay dead in the streets. Robin turned around as he heard someone coming behind him. It was a little girl with tears in her eyes.  
  
"Mommy and daddy are hurt." She sniffed as she looked at Robin with watered eyes. "Will you help me?" her eyes looked to him for help, help and comfort, which she, like many others needed at the moment.  
  
Robin let out a curse for he had no choice. "Where are they?"  
  
  
  
The tone of his voice scared the little girl and she backed away.  
  
"Where are they?" Robin repeated, yet this time softer and slower.  
  
The little girl pointed to an alley opening. "Asleep over there."  
  
The way the girl said it sickened Robin's stomach. He nodded and made his way to where the girl had pointed. He found two bodies and both were obviously dead. He turned and saw the little girl behind him.  
  
"They won't wake up." The girl whispered and she looked up at Robin. "Wake them up!"  
  
"I-I can't." Robin stuttered. "They're dead kid."  
  
"Dead?"  
  
Robin nodded vigorously. "They're gone, and will never come back."  
  
The girl began to bawl. "Yes they will! They wouldn't leave me."  
  
Robin looked at the girl. He hadn't the faintest thought in his head at what to do. The girl couldn't be any older than five, and she had lost her family.  
  
Robin walked back out into the alley and he glanced around. Where was Batman? He was getting angry with his boss for just leaving. Probably out helping people instead of waiting around for Robin.  
  
"Mommy?" The girl yelled.  
  
Robin turned his head and saw the girl cuddling up with her parents, bawling.  
  
**************  
  
  
  
Robin landed to the ground, his leg burned with each step, but there was nothing he could do about it, not now. Ahead of his stood a group of three thugs robbing a small bank, taking advantage of the crisis around them.  
  
"You guys make me sick." Robin growled as he came up behind them in a shadow. "Instead of helping the millions around you, you create more pain." Robin pulled out a bat-a-rang and hurled it at the one who held a gun. It knocked the gun to the ground.  
  
Robin lunged at the men, his fists hit the first two, one in the gut the other in the chin. He then went into a crouch and brought his right leg up, hitting the first in the nose, he heard it break and then flipped over the man, his weight pushed him to the ground.  
  
Robin spun around and snapped his arm around, with full speed, hitting another thug in the eye, a gun shot was heard and Robin could feel it just miss him. Turning around Robin found one of them aiming at Robin. Performing a headstand, Robin hit the man in the gut, causing the air to leave the man. Moving quickly Robin brought his fist into the man's jaw, he then pulled out another bat-a-rang and hurled it at the man who came from behind. It hit the man in the leg, puncturing it.  
  
The man's cry was loud, but Robin ignored it, his problem held the gun, with a deadly aim.  
  
Robin moved fast, and surprised the man, causing him to shoot the gun, missing terribly. Robin ducked to the ground and swung his legs out, hitting the man's own out from under him.  
  
The man fell with a yell, and Robin stood. "Thanks, now I have probably wasted time stopping a bunch of worthless junk like you instead of saving others lives." He then knocked the man unconscious.  
  
  
  
"I don't believe this," Gordon mumbled as he clicked off his frequency. All around him people were calling for help, and all he could do was stand around looking dumb. Walking over to a small female he knelt down. Taking her pulse he found her dead. He shook his head and looked behind him to where a group of firemen stood trying to fight a fire. Luckily the bombs only hit one area. This could all be cleaned up fast. But losses were numerous. The Commissioner knew that more than anyone.  
  
**********  
  
  
  
It had been a week since the bombs had hit Gotham, and Tim Drake sat huddled in a corner, teeth chattering from the cold. Alfred was dead as was Barbara. Dick was nowhere that Tim knew of and it went the same for Bruce. Wayne Manor was no longer distinguishable, and unsafe to stay there, so Tim had nowhere else to turn to. He had changed out of his Robin costume, so incase someone came while he was asleep and.  
  
Tim let out a sigh, and his body quivered in exhaustion. This would be one of the few times for a break. He closed his eyes and tried to rest, but it was hard. Too much was clouding his mind. Hunger rolled in his stomach, but there was nothing to do for it. No way was Tim about ready to steal! That would be against everything Batman had taught him.  
  
A small group of people passed. Obviously on they're way to one of the many camps sent up for the homeless. They carried a small suitcase, which held their few valuables. They gave him a glance, then walked quickly by. Time was precious to them, as was everything else they had, and they were not willing to share.  
  
Tim watched them past, and his body shook again, his muscles screamed out for rest. It seemed to hurt even to breath. All he wanted was this to end, and for everything go back to what it was like before, that's all he wanted.  
  
**********  
  
  
  
Commissioner Gordon let out a sigh as he held his forehead. He had to keep his mind clear, even though his own daughter was dead. Even though there had been no sigh of Batman or any of his gang all week. He prayed that they were fine, he also prayed for his daughter. Barbara. Looking toward the sky he felt a tear run down his face, but all he could do was wipe it away. His city needed him, more than ever. He made a vow to himself to track down those who caused this pain. He vowed it solemnly.  
  
  
  
**********  
  
Robin fell to a crouch on the ground, his eyes alert and cautious. He hoped to find the Commissioner tonight so he could discuss matters. Maybe Gordon had seen Batman or Nightwing. He hoped so, because this was a job that seemed to be to big for Robin, and he needed help.  
  
A scream was emitted from down the street and that was all Robin needed. He dashed madly toward it. Swerving down the alley he faced a woman and another woman, one held a gun, pointed at the other woman.  
  
Robin saw the woman under gunpoint with tears in her eyes softly whispering something that Robin couldn't hear, but Batman had trained him to lip read.  
  
  
  
'Please, dear God! My poor husband, Henry!' she was saying.  
  
Robin was obviously unseen by both woman, and he came to them fast, trying to get this over with and have no one get hurt.  
  
The woman who was under the gun's eye saw him, and her face gave him away. The other woman spun around, her face fell, and she shot at him. Robin performed a flip into the air, gliding over her, he landed and brought his left leg out and hit her in the ribs. Then with a plunge he thrust a fist at her face, hitting her dead center. Blood flew from her nose, and she had fear painted on her face. This caused Robin to slow his movements for her sake.  
  
The woman put a hand to her nose and looked at the blood with a questioning look as if she didn't know how it happened. Her eyes went to Robin's own, and they showed pain and fear. A feeling he knew.  
  
"Do you give in?" Robin questioned slowly.  
  
The woman dropped the gun, and then fell to her knees crying. This startled Robin, and he glanced to the other woman who was by a man's body who was obviously dead. Robin walked to the woman he had fought and took her arm, pulling her up.  
  
Suddenly a furry came to her eyes and she bit into Robin's arm, and then let up, reaching for her gun.  
  
Robin's head scattered almost form shock. The woman had blood on her mouth, obviously Robin's own. She aimed the gun, not for Robin, but for herself.  
  
"No!" Robin yelled out as he tried to knock away the gun.  
  
The woman pulled the trigger then fell to the ground with a bullet in her head.  
  
Robin's mouth was open slightly and he sighed. Looking at his arm he found it bleeding badly. He ignored it for a moment and went to the other woman.  
  
"Are you alright?" He questioned.  
  
The woman looked up to him and cursed. "How can I be alright? She killed my husband! Why didn't you stop her? My husband!" She mumbled on and Robin turned and walked away. It began to snow.  
  
**************  
  
"I want a squad of men at the east end, now." Gordon ordered. "We have major problems over there and three murders have taken place."  
  
The police officer nodded then ran to his car.  
  
Bullock watched as Gordon approached him. "You ready?"  
  
Gordon gave a nod, and then walked beside his friend. "Where is Montoya?"  
  
"At home resting. She earned it." Bullock explained.  
  
"Good," he sighed. "Any sign of the Batman or any of his group?"  
  
Bullock shook his head. "No."  
  
"Yes," another voice said, and Robin stepped into the light. Gordon almost smiled. "I am here."  
  
"It's about time." Gordon said. "Where is Batman?"  
  
Robin frowned. "Busy."  
  
Gordon's face fell at this. He knew that meant either Robin didn't know or Batman was dead. He shook his head, blocking the thought. "How long have you been out here?"  
  
Robin shrugged. "All week."  
  
Gordon nodded toward Robin's bandaged arm. "Looks like you have had it rough." He then noticed how bad of shape Robin was really in.  
  
"Nothing time can't heal Commissioner," Robin answered. He then looked back into the shadows as if longing to be there.  
  
"You have a place to stay?" Gordon asked.  
  
Robin licked his dry lips and shrugged. "Sure." his stomach growled loudly. "Hee-hee, looks like I better take a break soon huh." His face seemed to give away everything.  
  
Gordon nodded. "If you need a place to stay."  
  
"I'm fine." Robin cut his words off. "We do not have time to worry about me, right now the city is in trouble. You should know that."  
  
Gordon nodded. "So, what have you found? Any thing that we need to take care of in a hurry."  
  
Robin shook his head slowly. "If there had been you would have heard it by now."  
  
Gordon smiled faintly. 'Turning out like The Bat.' He thought silently.  
  
"I came by to tell you that we are still around, and, er, to see if you needed any help."  
  
"Yes actually we do. A lot's happening, and there aren't enough hands." He let out a low sigh. "A lot are dead, and we need to end that."  
  
Robin nodded cautiously, not quite understanding where Gordon was going, so he aloud the commissioner to continue.  
  
"I haven't see Batman, Nightwing, or even Batgirl around. So in other words if you're the only one of them left then you are going to have a load on your back."  
  
"I know that, but they aren't dead." Robin answered as if insulted by Gordon's words.  
  
Gordon smiled almost painfully, "come on, we need your help." He then turned and began to walk down the street.  
  
Robin shot a sideways glance at Bullock the followed the Commissioner at a distance.  
  
Bullock followed.  
  
****************  
  
  
  
"Your crazy!" Bullock yelled at Robin.  
  
Robin coughed through the thick smoke. "That's your opinion, there are people up in the building Bullock, and I am not leaving them. So either you leave or get some men up there!"  
  
Bullock swerved around and ran to go get some men. He yelled back to Robin. 'I hate you kid, more than you know it!"  
  
Robin smirked, and then dashed up the stairs. He took them six at a time, trying to get to the top and save the innocents up there. He grabbed hold to the railing and almost threw himself up and soon enough he found himself surrounded by dancing flames that seemed to laugh at Robin. Mocking him.  
  
Robin cursed them then made a leap over a row, he heard screams and cries of pain and fear, people who were burning to death at this very moment. It pushed Robin faster, and all the time he repeated a prayer. He hoped that this would end with every one all right, but that was only a hope. nothing more.  
  
"You, the whole group, you all come on, we have groups of people stuck up there." Bullock ordered. He tried to sound official, but his way of speech disallowed it. He turned, not even with a glance to see if the men were following him. He ran to the burning building.  
  
**************  
  
The wood crashed at Robin's side, and he jumped form the noise it made. Taking in a deep breath Robin moved forward, toward the screams of help. He felt that his skin was burnt, and he even cringed at the slight needle like pain it caused. But he knew that everyone in this building was feeling the same feel, so he trudged forward. He had to.  
  
Robin entered the next room and found everyone. He fell to his knees and puked. They all lay burnt, burning. All dead, their eyes showed fear and lost hope, they showed pain of being burnt alive. Robin puked again. He had witnessed many gory deaths but this one hit him in the gut, and made him weak to it. He bowed to it.  
  
"Dumb kid, get out of 'er!" Bullock yelled as he saw Robin on his knees. "Yer gonna die an' it won't be ME who stays 'round ta see it!"  
  
Robin snapped out of the trance and stood, he turned and ran out of the room, for there was nothing more to say or hear.  
  
The two ran out of the building, fast and furious. Bullock was faster than Robin had expected, but Robin was learning a lot about Bullock.  
  
***********  
  
Gordon watched as Bullock and Robin walked toward him. He walked toward them, and saw the ash all over them both. Both had defeat in their eyes.  
  
"Bad news Commish." Bullock stuttered. "We failed, all of 'em are dead. Not one poor soul made it."  
  
Robin gave a nod of confirmation.  
  
"Well then let's move others need us. This gang is killing everyone in their path, and were going to see them stopped." Gordon yelled. "Now move to the east, problems all over there."  
  
Bullock nodded then made his way toward his car. Robin turned to follow.  
  
"Robin wait." Gordon ordered.  
  
Robin turned and looked at Gordon.  
  
"You are to team up with Montoya. She's over by my car. Go there and she'll give you orders."  
  
Robin nodded obediently then walked toward where the young woman stood. His form was in a slouch of exhaustion, and it showed that he was about ready to take a break. But a break, Gordon could not give, for he had none.  
  
Montoya watched as the figure walked toward her. She almost smiled. She had seen him many times with Batman, but he was always acted like a kid. But as he walked toward her, Montoya saw his seriousness, and she became serious. People were dieing and she was the one who was here to try and stop deaths.  
  
  
  
Robin walked in front of her and sopped. "Where to?"  
  
Montoya smiled warmly, "to the south a little. Thugs all around, they are taking advantage of this situation."  
  
Robin nodded his reply.  
  
************  
  
Montoya ducked behind her car, her gun was held close to her breast, she breathed hard. She glanced around and saw other police taking shots. But she knew that they were all missing. They had to be, those gang members had good cover and they had weapons that over ruled the police forces.  
  
She stole a glance toward Robin who was crouched next to her, his eyes in slits as if thinking. She hoped he might come up with a good plan because she could sure use one. Taking in a deep breath she turned and looked at the clearing where the gang was hiding. They were under cover and there was nothing to be done about chasing them out.  
  
Montoya pulled out her walkie-talkie and clicked it on. "This is squad 5, we seem-." Montoya saw that Robin was gone.  
  
  
  
Robin ducked into the shadows and became them. He made his movements with the shadows, trying to keep himself unseen to either side, for either side would give away his position. He turned the corner and found the group of thugs huddled tighter, forming a plan. Only one was on guard. Lazy. Robin listened to the men. He licked his lips as they talked gruffly.  
  
"We take them all by surprise, there aren't enough of them, or even weapons that could stop us. We are loaded. We wipe them out, and then hold our ground. We won't give in."  
  
Then men muttered in agreement.  
  
The leader, obviously, gave a nod. "Then it's settled, we will feed them some, then take them in. They won't have a chance."  
  
Robin turned began to move back toward the police, but he turned into a member.  
  
"What do we have here?" The man in front of Robin questioned. "A kid out on a stroll." With movement of his hand, the man hurled Robin into the ground. His head collided with the stone, and Robin felt it crack open. He let out a curse, which was a growing bad habit.  
  
"Looks like a spy huh." One of the men yelled out as he stood.  
  
The leader stood. "Never trust anyone with a mask!" He frowned. "Cause it probably mean they work for a big black bat."  
  
"Or a criminal." Robin growled back. He gnashed his teeth from pain.  
  
The leader laughed. "Or a criminal, the slight factor is that you wear the symbol on your chest which stands for Robin."  
  
Two men pulled Robin up hard, and his head spun. "At least I have something to be proud of." He watched as the leader drew his gun.  
  
"At least I will be alive to see tomorrow." He then pulled the trigger.  
  
Robin leaped to the side. He felt the whiz of the bullet rush by.  
  
"Kill him." The leader muttered then turned his back to Robin.  
  
The men laughed as they began to circle around Robin. Their weapons were drawn. A glint was in each of their eyes. They were trained to kill, and Robin was trained to do the opposite.  
  
'This should be fun.' Robin thought to himself as the men drew in. He knew he had to keep some space to fight, so he raced toward the first man he laid eyes on. He brought his fit into the man's face and then released his foot in an upward spur. He hit the man in the nose, and heard the satisfying crunch he knew to well and had experienced a few times to many, the sound was nose breaking.  
  
The other men came at him, then, all at once. He leaped into the air, his adrenaline pumping strongly. No fear was in him, but oddly, excitement. He felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips, and he let it come. Brining his right leg sharply into one of the men's jaw. Then spun in the air, and came down hard on another man. He then performed a back flip away, trying to gain space. A stunt he used to often, and knew to control it well.  
  
The men began to group up, this time seeing they would need guns and other deathly objects.  
  
Robin saw this and began to take as many as he could down at a time, but there were too many. Some even just watched the fight, not joining. He could never take all these men down, but he could not think like that. He would take all these men down, and tonight.  
  
************  
  
Montoya heard gunfire, then yelling. She listened and heard the sound of a fight starting. She waited a few moments then motioned to her men to follow her to where the thugs were talking cover. Something was wrong, and she had a feeling it was Robin.  
  
***********  
  
Robin dove to the ground, his face lifted, and his chin scrapped against the cement. He yelped out as a blow came to his back, barbwire was on the bat the man hit him with. Turning Robin brought both legs into the man's gut, throwing him back. He was beginning to feel like a Christian against the gladiators, and he was losing.  
  
Another man came at him then, his fist flying, he missed Robin, by an inch. Robin took the opportunity and brought both fists tighter and hit the man hard on his back. Then gliding into the air Robin brought his right foot into the man's ribcage. It was the kind of kick that would break a few ribs. It did and the man cried out in pain as he fell to the ground.  
  
Robin watched as more men poured in toward him. Some back up would be appreciated right about now. His wish was granted.  
  
"Alright, leave the kid alone!" Montoya yelled. Her hands shook as she held the gun. She told herself it was from the cold. "You are all under arrest."  
  
One of the men stepped forward. "Wrong pretty lady. You know as well as we do that we all over power you."  
  
The leader hushed the man. "Lady, you have no power here, so leave, or you'll find yourself in the snow, with all your men, bleeding to death."  
  
"As long as we take you down with us." Montoya hissed at the man. "You have the right to remain silent. anything you say or do can be used.'  
  
"DUCK!" Robin yelled as he jumped up and hit a man about ready to shoot Montoya.  
  
The shot ran out, and missed Montoya. She gasped at the suddenness. Suddenly all madness broke out. Each side began to fire on the other and fight. Montoya joined in seeing nothing else she could do.  
  
********  
  
Gordon drove like a mad man. Montoya needed back up bad. Those were her words. He swerved hard as he turned the corner and his wheels squealed as the made the mad turn. He pulled into the lot where all the other cop cars were stationed and jumped out. Around five cars did the same. Men poured form the vehicles.  
  
Gordon heard the gunshots and yells form a small alleyway, he made his way for it and hoped he wasn't too late.  
  
********  
  
Montoya punched the man who grabbed for her, her fist drilled into his face hard, and he drew back with a cry of pain. Montoya reloaded her gun quickly then drew it up and aimed. A man came at her with a bat in his hand. On the bat was barbed wire, and blood showing he had hit someone else with it.  
  
Montoya shot, and the man fell, blood flew form his neck. She gasped and then turned, she practically cried out from joy when she spotted the commissioner come in with his men. But her joy was short lived. She heard Gordon yelling at her, then a clear shot rang out and Montoya fell to the ground.  
  
************  
  
"Montoya!" Gordon yelled as he ran to the woman's side. She had been shot though the chest and was bleeding badly. He looked up and saw a man laughing. Gordon shot him through the head. His sanity lost.  
  
************  
  
Robin watched as the thugs were all arrested. He shook his head then walked toward where Montoya lay wounded, Gordon was giving commands to get her to safety, his worry was apparent. Robin watched as she was loaded into a car, then driven away, he felt sorry for her.  
  
Gordon turned to Robin, his eyes hard. "How are you?"  
  
"Good enough."  
  
Gordon nodded. "Good, we don't need any other wounded."  
  
Robin nodded back his agreement. Then put a hand to his chin, which was bleeding, and he turned away from Gordon. Robin needed to bandage himself up.  
  
"Good job tonight kid," One of the thugs growled angrily.  
  
The policeman behind him pushed him into the police car, and closed the door. Then turned to Robin, "Looks like your wounded, you know there is a- "  
  
"I know." Robin snapped. "I don't need it."  
  
The man nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I forgot that you have your secret."  
  
Robin nodded.  
  
"But then what's to say we just go to where they hit you and get your blood from there?" Another man asked form behind.  
  
Robin sneered. "Because there are a lot of people who were shot and wounded back there and their blood is mixed in with my own." He then flashed a glare to the man behind him.  
  
The man frowned. "The point is that we aren't going to discover who you are by helping you."  
  
Robin gave a cruel smile. "You can't trust anyone these days." He then turned and left them with no more then the 'swish' of his cape.  
  
********  
  
Tim walked into the small camp, all around people huddled together trying to keep warm. He paused and gave a small glance at them, then walked faster to Leslie's tent. He needed his head bandaged. He had tried the best he could, but it was pointless. It needed to be stitched up. He found her tent and entered. "Miss. Leslie?"  
  
A woman with short gray hair looked up. "Yes?"  
  
Tim smiled, he had heard from Alfred and Dick about Leslie, and that she knew their secret. But he had never seen her before. "I, uh, was wondering if you could help me out."  
  
Leslie nodded. "This is my break, but I could manage you in." She smiled kindly.  
  
"Thanks, I, er, busted my head and think it might need to, uh, be stitched." Tim muttered.  
  
"How did you manage that?" Leslie asked as she motioned Tim to follow her.  
  
Tim did. "I fell."  
  
Leslie frowned. "Oh, what's your name then?"  
  
Tim gave a nod. "Tim Drake." He prayed Bruce of Alfred told her about him so he wouldn't have to explain.  
  
Leslie smiled and nodded. "Ah-ha, that explains it. I knew you didn't just fall and get that bust. Have you heard form Bruce yet?"  
  
Tim shook his head. "I was hoping you would have."  
  
Leslie's smiled faded. "Alfred? Doesn't he usually take care of.?"  
  
"Dead." Tim cut in. "Barbara too. Dick is missing. I'm the only one left."  
  
Leslie's mouth hung ajar in shock. "My- how in the world. how have you been getting along then?"  
  
"Well enough, better than most, I just need some help with my physical condition, that's why I came here."  
  
"I understand." Leslie muttered, as she felt sick to her stomach.  
  
*******  
  
Robin leaped high, then cold wind whipped at his face, snapping at him. He tightened his grasp on the cable and found himself approaching the small warehouse. He let go of the cable and performed a flip in mid air, coming down in a complete head dive toward the streets below. He quickly snapped out his other cable and shot it off, his body suddenly lifted into the sky, fast, and hard. He then pushed the button on the small cable and it released, causing Robin to fall once again. He landed on his feet, and formed his body into a crouch, professional. He then made his way across the roof and walked steadily to the edge, coming again in a couch he peered over the edge, slowly gaining a layout of the jump. It would be simple enough to carry out, and he flipped over the edge and went into a fast spin, falling toward the street once again. Once again he was free, once again he had help, once again he had a grip on his city.  
  
End of part I 


	2. Chapter Two

"Empty bellies instead of full, it's the hard knock life."

- Play 'Hard Knock Life' -

_**Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts:**_

By: The BatThing

Robin was simply starving. He scratched at his bloated belly with a petite groan. So much had happened in the last few days, and never in his entire existence had he felt so misplaced and alone. He desired to talk with someone. The longing just to laugh again was almost murder.

He was lonely, so lonely that it hurt almost physically. He would talk, at times, just to hear himself – make sure that he was still capable. It was strange too, the more he thought about talking, the more his Gotham accent became more emphasized. He was starting to show signs of talking like Bullock, which couldn't be good. He was just thinking about it too much.

Sniffling, due to his lack of a tissue, the boy thought to himself. _'I suppose that shows me what happens when you finally love. I loved Dad and he left, Bruce - and he's gone, not to mention the others.'_

He rested his head against the cold brick wall and sighed. Inside he told himself that he'd get a good meal tonight. '_Hamburger with fries and a shake are what we'll eat tonight if I just manage to go on patrol for three hours_.' With a smile Robin listened to his tummy rumble. It was so easy to fool himself. Deep down the boy knew that after a five hour patrol he'd have nothing to eat but what he managed to get for himself.

* * *

"I'd rather not discuss my emotions with you, Montoya. I've asked you again and again not to bring up the matter of my daughter's death. I'd appreciate it if you'd at least pretend to heed my wishes." Gordon couldn't help but sound mean, he was sick of the sympathy – sick of people trying to make him feel better, or trying to make him talk.

Montoya grimaced at the voice. "But commissioner... you can't just hold it in and act so insensitive. I know that you are hurt about what happened to your daughter. I think you need to talk about it with someone. I understand if that someone isn't me, but you need to talk with someone."

Silence.

"Well, it's my break, and I told Bullock I would get lunch this time. So, I should head out. Would you like me to pick anything up for you? It's on the house."

"No, I'm fine Montoya. Thanks."

The woman nodded, acting indifferent. "Just think about what I said, that's really all I'd like. We're worried about you, not to be annoying, but because we care about you. So please, just think about it."

"Sure."

Montoya nodded and made her way for the door. She paused for a moment, then left, closing the door with a light 'click'.

Getting to his feet Gordon extended his arms over his head, wiggling his fingers at the ceiling and trying to think about anything other than Barbara. It wasn't a simple task. His mind was filled with memories of her.

"I need to get out of here." He admitted harshly. Deciding on what to do, he snatched up his trench coat and strode out the door.

And so he walked. He walked all through the city. Minutes turned to hours and the commissioner didn't even notice. His mind was blank with Barbara. It wasn't until he felt the sensation that someone was following him. Trotting a few more blocks, he hoped to lose them. But the task failed. "Damnit, come on out and have at it."

To the grown man's surprise Robin slipped into the light, blinking rapidly.

"What do you need boy?"

"I was just -" Robin paused, as if he wasn't sure. "I thought something was wrong is all."

"Why would you think that?"

The raven-haired boy said nothing and looked at the ground. "Um, I have a question too. Have you heard, I dunno, from Batman lately?"

Gordon frowned.

"I haven't seen him in awhile and was wondering because it's been a few days."

"No, I haven't seen him."

The boy's stomach growled severely and he pretended to ignore it.

Gordon could easily put two and two together. "How are things going for you then? I know it's not business, but I wonder sometimes. How are you managing?"

"Fine, I guess, better than most."

"Where are you staying? I mean, with Batman gone and the others missing in action, how is it that you are getting by?"

Robin lifted his head a little, almost looking proud. "That's personal Gordon, I can't tell you that."

Gordon glared. "Fine, tell me this, when was the last time you ate a full meal? Boy, you look like you have lost 20 pounds since the last time I saw you! Not to mention you look like _shit_!" He didn't know why he was getting so mad, but he was. "How about you just admit that you are _starving_, _alone_, and _homeless_?"

The two stood, staring at each other.

"You'll die in a few days if you don't do something about your condition."

"It's really none of your business Gordon. I'm not your responsibility."

"Oh like hell you aren't! You are working for me, so that gives me full responsibility! Not to mention you are the child of my good friend. And I won't see his own kid die out of stupidity."

"I'm _not_ Batman's kid."

"Like hell you aren't." Gordon growled.

"You assume you know everything about me when really you have no idea." Robin was almost yelling, and his voice was horse as he raised it.

"Listen," changing tactics Gordon continued. "Let me help you at least. Come and eat dinner with me. Is that asking too much?"

Robin's stomach lurched at the suggestion. "No."

"Then come on, let's go."

His emotions won over. Gordon was a friend, a trusted partner. And loneliness had never hurt this bad. Robin followed the man at a great distance, but followed nonetheless.

_To be continued ..._


	3. Chapter Three

Part II: Chapter Two:  
  
"So, you refuse to come inside. It would have helped to know that before we headed out to eat." Gordon spat as he walked down the gloomy alley. He tried to give a smile to the nervous boy a few feet away from him.  
  
Robin was practically dancing. He was all over, looking around, checking things out, as if he were on duty. He acted much like a cornered animal trying to find a way out.  
  
"Hey, take a break and come eat this would you?" Gordon held out a Styrofoam container. "It's not much, but I enjoy it. And since you didn't have a clue as to what to eat I just got you what I got."  
  
Robin seemed to ignore him, acting like he found something of interest in his utility belt. He went through every pouch. As he opened one he would mutter something, and then snap it shut continuing on to the next one.  
  
The older man watched, humored at the sight, as he silently ate his meal. He should have figured it would have been harder than he thought. "Robin, sit down and eat already!"  
  
Robin jumped at the voice and nervously skittered over to the food. He glanced down at it and then lifted it up, taking it away from Gordon and finding a spot in the corner. Nestling down he watched Gordon for a moment, then began to eat his meal.  
  
The two ate in silent, but both somewhat thankful for the others company. Neither fully understanding why they were so delighted for the other's presence. Perhaps because they were both comforting in one aspect, like two old friends. Or their loneliness was finally being fed.  
  
Gordon was soon done and crumpled the small box between his hands and sighed abruptly. "So, what happened to Nightwing and Batgirl?"  
  
At once Robin was putting away his food, though he was not yet done. He shook his head, ignoring the need to answer.  
  
Assuming the answer Gordon continued with his conversation. "You have a place to stay?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"You know, my daughter died."  
  
"I'm sorry," Robin blurted out as if he had been waiting to apologize for this.  
  
Gordon nodded. "Thanks, but the point is, a lot of people died Robin, and well, I know I am not alone. I have a whole police force behind me, and some family besides that. But the problem is that, deep down, I have this sickening feeling you are alone. And I don't like that one bit."  
  
Robin was dancing to his nerves content. "I better go."  
  
"And do what?"  
  
"My job."  
  
Gordon shook his head. "Robin, it was different when you have Batman. There was adult supervision. I knew that you were in good hands. But with Batman and the others gone you are in a whole different position. Understand?"  
  
Robin shook his head. His nerves seemed to smooth out for a moment as he straightened and focused on his problem. "You try and stop me Gordon, you just try."  
  
"If I have to I will."  
  
"You don't have any way to stop me Gordon, it's just that simple. That would require catching me. And as far as I know you don't have that power."  
  
"I can get it."  
  
"I'd like the challenge."  
  
"You idiot boy! You show me that you are actually in good hands and I will let you continue without trouble, but right now I see no proof of that. So either you get someone or I will get you into a foster home."  
  
"And ruin The Batman?"  
  
Gordon flung his trash at the boy, hitting him in the head. He was somewhat surprised that Robin hadn't moved out of the way. "He's dead Robin!"  
  
"You don't know that though!"  
  
"Robin, get serious for a few moments and consider the facts. There is no way he could have survived!"  
  
The boy tossed his hand in the air and swirled his grappling hook on his fingertips.  
  
Gordon wondered how he had managed to get the object without him seeing it.  
  
Robin was gone within a few seconds, with Gordon screaming after him threats.  
  
"You're being an idiot to do this! You'll never survive at the rate you are going! You'll be dead in just a few days and when you are tell Barbara hello for me you stupid idiot! Tell her," Gordon fell to his knees and sobbed, "that I love her so much and want her back." He removed his glasses and rubbed between his eyes. He remained in that position for a few moments before getting to his feet and taking out a cell phone.  
  
The main dialed in a number quickly and held it to his ear. He waited a few moments then spoke in a low voice. "Hello, this is Commissioner James Gordon, I would like to get a hold of Superman if at all possible, can you help me with that?"  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Robin ducked down into the shadows and cursed rapidly. "They sent in Superman to get me, how do you like that?" He knew perfectly well that he would be caught within a few moments.  
  
There was a strong gust of wind and then silence once more. For a moment The Boy Wonder thought that perhaps he had managed to elude The Man of Steel. He decided it best to remain in hiding a few seconds more.  
  
"It was a good idea I will admit."  
  
The boy jerked around and looked upward, screwing his face up. "Look who it is."  
  
Superman stood, smiling down at him. "Bruce would be ashamed if he knew what you were doing."  
  
"Like you would know."  
  
"I have a few guesses how Batman might act. And I do know that he wouldn't like the fact that you are killing yourself."  
  
Robin gently moved his hand toward his belt. "He wouldn't want me standing around doing nothing either, now would he?"  
  
"You don't have to just sit around doing nothing Tim. You could operate as Robin if you actually were capable of taking care of yourself, which obviously you aren't. I think the commissioner gave a generous proposal. He's not asking much you know, just asking that you take better care of yourself."  
  
"I am alive aren't I? I am still moving around without struggle aren't I? I am my own problem and none of your concern Clark, so go back to Metropolis and leave me and my city alone." With that Robin pulled out a small pebble of kryptonite, something that Batman had once given him.  
  
The boy didn't wait around the see the results. He took of in a sprit, hurrying to get away. Superman would be crazy to follow him. But obviously Superman was. Within seconds Robin found himself picked up and flown upward.  
  
For a moment he considered pulling out the kryptonite but restrained, if he did he would fall to his own death. They were to high up.  
  
"Robin, I like you, I always have," Superman began, "Bruce is my good friend and I know him to well to tell you that he would approve of what you are doing. If he were alive then I am sure he would take care of you himself, but he can't, so you are in the care of his friends now. Respect him for that Tim, don't put up a fight."  
  
Robin stiffened at the comment. "Who said he was dead? What is to say he is not coming back?"  
  
"Tim, you are smart, it doesn't add up to anything other than death."  
  
Robin shook his head and shut his eyes. "Stop that! My name is Robin and The Batman is alive."  
  
"The commissioner's daughter died you know."  
  
Silence.  
  
"And I was thinking about both your situations. You both lost people you loved and you both could use the company. So, I talked with him about it, and though he wasn't thrilled he said it would be all right."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"I think you know."  
  
"I refuse, he'd have me figured out by the next day!"  
  
"Tim, I mean Robin, if you go and live with the commissioner you will be able to operate under the mask. Gordon cares about the secret, and I think you can trust him more than anyone else around."  
  
Robin opened his eyes and wished he could throw a punch, but knew it would only inflict damage on his own self. "You yourself proved that very point Clark."  
  
Superman began to fly forward, towards The Gotham City Police Headquarters. "I'm sorry you feel that way."  
  
"If you were sorry you would put me down and get lost."  
  
The man made no argument. He just moved onward. 


	4. Chapter Four

"Hush little baby don't you cry, daddy's gonna' sing you a lullaby.  
Everything's gonna be all right, the Lord's gonna' answer your prayer  
tonight." –Toby Mac 'Irene'  
  
Chapter Four:  
  
By: The BatThing  
  
Robin glanced about the room in fascination.  
  
"This is where you'll sleep for now," came a sturdy voice behind him. "I hope it's to your liking, I know it might not be all that appealing to a teenage boy but... it's the best I have."  
  
Robin gave a partial nod and hesitated a moment before entering his new bedroom. It was small compared to his old one now in ruins at Wayne manor, but nevertheless, it would satisfy his needs. And it was better than what most had.  
  
"Um, well." Gordon seemed slightly worried. "I'll show you around the house then?"  
  
"Whatever."  
  
The two made their way down the small hallway and the elder gave a presentation of the house. He explained that if they boy were at any time hungry that he could help himself, and then pointed out the bathroom, and the finally brought Robin into the laundry room.  
  
"You can do your laundry in here, you do know how to wash clothes, do you not?"  
  
Robin blinked, glancing down at his feet.  
  
"Oh, wait, you don't have any laundry do you?"  
  
"Um, not necessarily. I have a few, um, things I could wash from my costume and well." He didn't continue.  
  
Gordon didn't say anything for a few moments, and then gradually answered. "I think I have an idea. Wait here a moment while I go next door."  
  
Robin watched him hurry away and attempted to stifle a yawn, which in return brought tears of drowsiness to his eyes. He was drained, and so weary he thought, for sure, he could fall asleep standing up. It had been one of those weeks, and now, the nearby couch almost mocked him.  
  
"Thank you Mrs. Webb, it is much appreciated!" Gordon lifted the box labeled: 'Tommy's Cloths' into his arms and nodded easily.  
  
"I always love donating to those in need," the woman replied almost in a gossiping manner. "I never even considered donating to the police station. You be sure that those children who suffered from that bomb get those clothes on their back."  
  
"Oh I will ma'am, trust me. Thank you once more."  
  
"Tommy would be pleased to know that his clothes are being use for such a nice thing. You see, I would have donated long ago but I can't really get out of the house due to my old bones. I get so tired so easily, and no one really comes over to talk to me other than Odis once a week with the groceries." The woman used her hands to talk more than she needed to.  
  
"Heh, well I best get along home, I left the food on the stove."  
  
"Oh, yes, of course. Goodnight then Jim, and any time you need something again, you just come right over and ask for it. You know that I am more than happy to give away things like that to help those in need."  
  
Gordon nodded and hurried out of the house, making his way across the street to his small, cramped home. He felt a small stab of guilt for the woman across the way, but he didn't dwell on the matter.  
  
"Robin? I managed to find you some clothes, I don't know if they will all fit you perfectly, but you could at least give them a try." He entered into the laundry room and lowered the box, glancing around. The boy wasn't in sight. "Robin?"  
  
'Great,' Gordon thought. 'He ran off at his first chance.'  
  
He made his way into the living room and a small smile touched his lips. There, on the couch, curled into a tight, unsecured ball, slept Robin, the Boy Wonder.  
  
Something pulled at Gordon's already weak heart as he though of his daughter. The man pulled an afghan from the rocker a few feet away and lightly spread it over the boy.  
  
"Goodnight son," the man whispered as he flicked of the lamp brightening the room. Then there was a small hush of silence, and Gordon made his way to his room.  
  
"BRUCE!" Robin gasped, sucking in air, filling his lungs. It had been a ghastly dream, and he quivered thinking about the reality of it. He glanced around the room, taking it in slowly, and remembering where he was. Lifting the blanket that was covering him, the boy slowly rose to his feet and glanced halfheartedly out the nearby window.  
  
He was somewhat surprised to discover a small ray of sun sleeping peacefully. How long had he slept, and why had Gordon let him do so? Robin instantly went for his mask, recalling Gordon. He found it securely in place.  
  
"Oh, you are up."  
  
Robin whirled around to find Jim holding a glass of milk, leaning against the doorframe that led from the kitchen to the living room.  
  
"I'll bet you are hungry, huh? I'll make some eggs, do you like eggs?" Gordon turned and walked back into the kitchen, expecting the Boy Wonder to follow.  
  
And he did, very obediently. He entered the kitchen and looked around in silence.  
  
"I was hoping you would get up before I headed off to work. I wanted to tell you that I got some clothes from my neighbor next door that might fit you. You'll probably want to take a shower, so feel free, and after you can try some on. How do you like your eggs?"  
  
"Anything is fine," Robin muttered under his breath.  
  
"All right then, I'll make us both scrambled. You can get the milk from the 'fridge, I put it up. Help yourself."  
  
"Water is fine."  
  
"All right, you know where to find it." Gordon stirred the contents in the pan and smiled at the boy, though the smile was obviously false. "So, you slept well last night, I considered waking you, but though for the better. The city would be fine for one night, you know?"  
  
Robin was silent as he filled his glass with tap water from the sink. He watched it fill and decided not to voice his frustration at not being woken.  
  
"Anyhow, you know where I work, and I thought that if you get lonely you could come and help us down there. We have a lot of stuff that could be done, and it's not against the Bat Law to work in the day light is it?" Gordon took two plates down from a nearby cabinet and threw a waiting look over his shoulder.  
  
"I'll think about it."  
  
"That's good enough for me. I just thought you might like to come down there with me."  
  
Robin nodded, taking his seat once more and sipping at the water.  
  
"Well, I leave in half an hour, so if you want to come I would suggest eating quickly, jumping in the shower, and changing." He set the plate of eggs before the boy and took the chair across the table and began to eat his own meal.  
  
"I'll think about it."  
  
"Commish'? May I ask why ya' have 'da boy wonder wit' ya'?" Bullock sneered at the boy with the mask. "And why is he dressed like," the man shook his head.  
  
Robin was indeed dressed in different apparel for those who had only seen him in his costume. He wore baggy denims, a plain white undershirt, and tennis shoes. True, he still wore his mask and Gordon had bought him gloves.  
  
"Robin will be helping me out around here," Gordon answered calmly. "Now where is Montoya?"  
  
"Off getting some coffee."  
  
"Well, ask her what she found on the Gauss murder, would you? I asked her to find out what she could." Gordon didn't know why he was explaining, but he was.  
  
"Sure thing 'Commish."  
  
Gordon nodded to Robin and the two continued down the hallway. The whole time Robin couldn't help but be slightly antsy. He walked a step behind the commissioner, even though there was more than enough room to walk beside him.  
  
Every person they passed began to give strange looks and whisper under their breath to the person beside them, all asking the same obvious question: "Is that The Boy Wonder?!"  
  
They finally made their way into Gordon's office, where the door was shut firmly behind them.  
  
"So," Gordon began, blinking rapidly. "How would you like to team up with Montoya in a case?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me, how would you like to team up with Montoya for the Gauss Murder?"  
  
"I'll do anything that Batman would do to help, and I know he wouldn't take fondly to working with other police officers."  
  
"Naturally, but you are not the Batman, you're Robin."  
  
"Same concept."  
  
Gordon gave a bitter smile and shrugged. "So, what do you have to say? No?"  
  
"What kind of work would I be doing?"  
  
"That depends on what she needs done, how about this, you see how it goes and if you don't want to work with her, then you don't have too. What do you say to that?"  
  
Robin shrugged, interested, but not showing it. "Sure, I guess."  
  
"Wonderful, she will, I am sure, be happy to work with you. If there is one person she enjoys more than anyone in the Bat group it is you. But I bet you didn't know that. Ever since you saved her a little while ago she has a soft spot for you."  
  
"Cool," Robin said in a way that said, 'It's not cool,' but really, to him, it was. 


	5. Chapter Five

"So long ago, I don't remember when, that's when they say I lost my only friend. I see the sun up ahead at the Counterline Bridge, saying all is good and nothingness is dead. Run until you are out of breath, run into there is nothing left. I'm so alone, and I feel just like somebody else. Man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same. But somewhere in-between these city walls is a dying dream, I think of death, it must be killing me."

–Wallflowers 'One Headlight'

**Chapter Five:**

"How was your day?" Commissioner Gordon knew that conversation was inevitable.

Shrug.

"So, how are you working with Montoya these last couple of days?"

It had been three days since the assignment, and neither Robin nor Montoya spoke much about it. It was closing time, if there was actually a time. It was just time to be done with police work. Robin and he had been there since seven in the morning, and it was already nine at night. Robin sat on the edge of the man's desk, doing something with his wrist.

It was still shocking to see him dressed the way he was. Montoya had taken the money Gordon gave her and bought the boy clothes. Robin couldn't and wouldn't go out into a store, and Gordon didn't know what was 'in', and if that matter to Robin or not, he simply didn't know.

The boy wore jeans and some red Teva flip-flops with a black T-shirt with the Purdue University logo. When Robin received the clothes he was somewhat surprised. He took them and muttered quick thanks.

"Has Bullock been giving you any trouble," Gordon pushed. He wished the boy would talk. It wasn't that long ago where the boy had been so carefree and happy. Now all that was before him was a silent, anxious kid. The man knew the boy didn't mean to act the way he did.

"No, Bullock is cool. Montoya is a good partner." That was it, nothing more to say. The boy pushed off the desk and carefully landed, walking instantly. "I'll be back."

"Robin. Not tonight." Gordon pushed back in his chair. "You need to rest tonight."

The boy stopped and turned slowly, his eyes slits through the black mask. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you aren't going to go out and fight crime, or look for the others, whatever you do." Gordon knew he sounded like a SOB, but what was there to do? The boy did this every night if he could manage. After work he would suit up and roam the city. Gordon had a sinking feeling he was searching for Him. "You are pushing to hard, how about you give tonight a rest and then tomorrow we'll see about it."

"No. I am going out Gordon. Despite what you think, I am not working here because you tell me too. I am working here to help the city. That is my job." So the Boy Wonder was getting mad.

"So is school. Which brings up another interesting problem."

The boy looked frustrated. "I'm not your kid Gordon, I'm no one's kid. I can take care of myself."

"That very well may be true. But we aren't going to find out, son. We won't worry about school right now, but we are going to take a break tonight. If I recall, you weren't even let out every night with Batman. It was more like only twice a week. I am giving you room Robin, as much as I can. But I won't allow you to take on the job of four people."

"Fine, just give me the Batman's job. That is all I want. That is all I need."

Gordon studied the boy. "Not until you are of legal age."

There was look that crossed the boys face.

"I know what you are thinking, that I am blackmailing you with Superman. But Robin, think about what is going on," The man got to his feet and stared the boy in the eyes. "You are no older than 16 and taking on 20 some work hours a day. One of your jobs is life threatening, and you have no adult supervision. You aren't attending school, you have nothing."

"Last time I checked I was just fine."

"That is because I am allowing it." Gordon was becoming irritated. "I am not forcing you to remove that mask Robin, you need to understand that! The city would have forced it on you. I am being as gracious as I can, but I won't allow you to kill yourself. You are not going out tonight, you are going to start working less hours, and you are going to get a tutor."

Robin was silent for a moment. "I'm going back to the house then."

"I know you are, you are going in my car." Gordon was annoyed now. "So, lets go."

The boy studied him and complied without a word. Even though they disagreed, the boy made sure to do as told. He was very well disciplined, and in that and many other aspects, Batman had done well. They walked down the hall, Gordon in the lead and Robin lagging behind, glaring at the ground.

"Night Rodgers, night Kim!" Gordon felt the glances his way. "Hey Bullock, make sure you don't get jelly roll tomorrow!"

Montoya was walking down the hall and smiled at the two. "Are you guys headed home?"

Gordon nodded and gave a pleasant smile. "Yes, it's been a long day. How about you, you aren't pulling more hours are you?"

The young woman shrugged, "as long as I have my coffee I can manage another hour or two. I have a few things I want to get taken care of before tomorrow." She turned to Robin and winked. "How is it going partner?"

The boy blushed, "ok."

Gordon shook his head, giving Montoya a stressed look and the woman only covered her smile.

"Goodnight you two," and she continued down the hall.

And so the two headed back to the house. Not really home, not really anything but shelter. Even Gordon would admit to that.

Robin instantly went to his room, leaving a concerned Gordon behind. The man wasn't worried about the boy sneaking out, not anymore. He had some respect for Robin. Gordon waited until the boy came out to brush his teeth. "Listen, Robin, if you ever need to talk. Well, I know I'm not really one to talk too, but you know, I just lost my daughter. I'm not saying you lost Batman or any of them. But if it helps."

The boy nodded. "Sure, thanks." There was a pause, and the boy looked like he was having trouble speaking. "I just need to find answers. I know He isn't dead. He isn't dead."

Gordon didn't answer this comment.

"I know you all think he is, but He can't be. He wouldn't do that." The boy gave a fearful smile. "You don't know Him like I do."

The man nodded in agreement, though not a work the boy spoke was logic. Batman was dead, dead of long gone. Leaving behind the city, Gordon, and a 15 year old who needed him very badly.

To be continued...

* * *

Ok, I wrote this all in one night, so it's not that great. Sorry! I just felt the urge to write, and bam! It was this one that hit me. I don't know how well this chapter is; I can't let it sink in for some reason. Maybe it's to late. So tell me what you think, ok?!

Val: Thanks! It's strange to comment to you for some reason. You aren't worth it. Just kidding! Hehehe. Can't wait to hear from you again. You are so predictable, it's like I have meet you before, strange.

TheDudeLordOfFantasy: I will update. Just for you! Hehehe, well, just for you and the others who reviewed. Thanks for reading this fanfiction, and I hope this next chapter is ok. I did it really fast, listening to weird music, so it might be weird! Ack! I hope not. But we shall see. Tee-hee-hee. Thanks for the review(s)!

Trunksblue: You! Hehehe, great to see you buddy! You are going to find out what happened to Batman, but not yet! I must keep you wondering. You are like putty in my hands... except not at all! Hehehe. Which brings up a sad story. You see, I had this silly putty that lasted me so many years and it died. Yeah, pointless, but I thought you should know... giggles. Kidding! Thanks for the review! Talk to you later!

Sue Falkenralle: You too! Eep, what is this? Just kidding! I am so happy to see you reviewed! I hope you think this chapter is ok, tell me what you think needs to be done, like, honestly. Slaughter me or something. I have a bad feeling that this needs work. So tell me your thoughts and such. Thanksthanksthanksthanks! Love getting reviews from ol' buddies!

-Cas


	6. Chapter Six

Much thanks to my editor, P. A busy girl who edits for me, even though she doesn't really have time! I'm a robber of time – I'm a criminal! But hats off to her, trust me, you should be grateful, if it weren't for her you wouldn't be able to understand much of this because of my grammar! So yea to P!

The first star I see may not be a star. We can't do a thing but wait. So let's wait for one more, and the time, such clumsy time in deciding if it's time. I'm careful, but not sure how it goes -you can lose yourself in your courage."

-Jimmy Eat World 'For Me This Is Heaven'

_**Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts:**_

_By: The BatThing_

**Chapter Six: **

Robin leisurely ran a gloved hand through his thick black hair, pushing it back, out of his face. A haircut was in order - that much was clear. It was no wonder Alfred use to schedule an appointment to trim his hair every couple of months. Tim had never questioned the butler, but now he had his unwanted answer.

The thoughts of Alfred caused the ever-present flock of butterflies in his stomach to take flight. And Robin didn't enjoy that one bit. 'Keep your mind off that,' he criticized silently. 'You have a job to do. Don't ever _forget_ that.'

Not that he ever would. His work was his home now. No matter how much Gordon pushed and pulled he could never take Robin from this – from his roofs.

The boy pushed his index finger to his right ear, feeling the disagreeable presence of a small headphone. Even if he was Robin he still was connected to the police nowadays. Gordon made sure of that much, always keeping him at hand. And what better way to make sure the kid was playing safe by placing him with Gordon's close friend, Renee Montoya.

Tim had to admit, he liked Montoya, and she was okay as far as he was concerned. Not to mention she was extremely good looking in his mind. The boy allowed a sigh to escape his mouth and didn't bother to cover it. He tossed his head and glanced around, it was apparent nothing would be happening tonight, at least not in this area.

The boy walked to the edge of the roof and dug into this utility belt, pulling out a grappling hook. He aimed, and then fired, allowing it to catch before walking off the roof and letting himself be pulled away.

Half way back to the police station he got a call. It was Montoya, and she sounded excited. "Robin?"

The boy grunted in reply. "Yeah?"

"I think we have a lead to the Gauss murders!" There was a pause. "Are you close to the station?"

"Relatively, what kind of lead are we talking about?" The boy squatted down in the shadows.

"Well, this guy was brought into the police station admitted to knowing something about the matter. He was scared stiff, but his lawyer told him he would get a few years knocked off if he answered the questions."

"Who is this guy? Anyone we know?"

"No, no one important," the young woman admitted. "But, well, you'll recognize the one in charge of these murders though. It's Mr. Zsasz."

"Victor Zsasz - as in the guy who tallies every victim onto his body, that guy?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid so."

Robin gave a low whistle and nodded, "I suppose it would make sense." He glanced around and watched as an older lady turned down the alley, pushing a shopping cart filled with blankets, a cat was perched on top of the bundle.

"Mm-hmm, so we still can't confirm anything, but I have a feeling it's good. He was really scared, and didn't budge for a long time."

Robin didn't answer, he watched the woman settle down between a few garbage bags.

Montoya seemed to be waiting for an answer, but when she didn't get one she moved on with the conversation herself. "I was looking through his profile, and well, there isn't anything hinting towards it, but at the same time there isn't anything against it. So I think it's worth following."

The boy slid through the shadows, and silently crept up to the woman attempting to rest. He pulled out crumpled five dollar bill and pushed it in her blankets, then hurried along. "Well, I'll see what I can find out here, I am sure people know _something_ about it."

"About that. Gordon told me to tell you to come back – he said something about not working too late tonight."

"He did, did he." Robin clenched his fist, angry. He couldn't take it; he couldn't take Gordon's _tender care_, or whatever the **hell** he was trying to do. Tim wasn't one to argue with someone like Gordon, Bruce taught him that much about respect, but at the same time, Bruce and Alfred were the only two people Tim had ever allowed to **_boss_** him around. He didn't mean to, but his words came out harsh, "Is he around _by_ _chance_?"

"He's in a meeting actually, but if it's important I'll get him for you."

"Don't bother," Robin growled. "Listen, if that's all I'm going to head out."

Montoya was silent for a moment, "yeah," she finally answered, "that's all. See you soon kid."

The boy ripped the phone piece from his ear and raised his arm, ready to launch it at the brick wall a few feet away. He stood in that position for a few moments, and then carefully placed the piece into his belt. No use in wasting equipment, he decided.

* * *

Robin shoved his suit into the thin backpack, and sighed as he slipped his feet into the Teva flip-flops. He then pushed his hand against the stall door and walked out into the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. "Ugh, looking a little pale I see," He chuckled at his words.

The door to the bathroom was opened and Harvey Bullock entered. When his eyes settled on Robin he stopped in his tracks.

The boy washed his hands in the sink, ignoring the rude stare, and then carefully wiped them against the seat of his jeans. He then proceeded to pull the short gloves over his hands. Seeing that Harvey was still stunned the boy walked past him, leaving the bathroom.

"Hey there, 'Boy Wonder'," a voice said.

Robin stopped and slowly turned around, looking into the face of a young cop he didn't recognize.

"It's Robin, if you don't mind."

"Sure thing - I heard you was working here, but didn't believe it. But I guess I was wrong."

"Sure." The boy then stiffly turned back around and walked towards Gordon's office, hoping not to be noticed anymore that night.

"Wait, I wanna to talk to you for a sec," the cop caught up to him and began walking alongside the boy. He flashed the Robin a smile, and it was all the more apparent he wasn't older than 26. "The name's Extine, Justin Extine, and trust me – the pleasure is all mine!"

Robin gave a small nod and glanced at the man, "Robin, erm, just Robin."

Justin gave a large laugh, filled with pleasure. "You could say Robin Batman, you know? Hee-hee. So, why are you hanging out here?"

The boy quirked an eyebrow, "I don't have much of a choice I guess."

"What do you mean?" Justin stopped the boy, "hold on for a moment, let me get a cup of water. You want some?"

"Uh, sure."

The man filled up two cups and handed the boy one. "Don't feel the need to answer anything you don't want to, I'm just kinda curious. What gets me though is the fact that you've been around longer than I can remember, at look at you – you're only a kid! How do you manage that? I heard Batman was human, but I mean – if you don't age then…" He gave an expectant look, and Robin couldn't help but chuckle.

"Classified," the boy replied calmly. "I can't answer that one for you."

"No prob, little buddy. You don't have to answer anything you don't want too."

Robin took a large gulp of water, then carefully look the man over. "You're new here?"

"Sort of, yeah – yeah I am." The young man sighed and shook his head, blushing slightly, "I guess it's apparent huh, otherwise I would have known for sure you worked here."

"Not necessarily. I haven't been around here that long," Robin admitted softly in reply.

"So, you know the Batman real well then? That has to be cool, huh? Not to mention you get to hang out with Batgirl," the man smirked at this.

Taking another sip, Robin forced himself to think of the lovely Batgirl. He didn't feel up to it at the moment.

"You always work this late?" The man tossed his now empty cup into a nearby trash can. "I just got this shift for the night, which is a shame."

"I work all day," Robin told him, looking at his water and not feeling up to drinking the rest. "Sometimes I'll be in the back, or I'll be out, you know."

"Out, I know what that means! It means kicking bad guys butts," Justin was smiling stupidly now. "Why do you work in the back?"

Robin shifted his weight and sighed, "I'm on the Gauss murder, and it's easier to work where people aren't hanging around. You know, it's hard with the mask sometimes."

Justin nodded, accepting the boy's words as truth. "Hey look, that meeting is finally done and over with. My partner was in it, that's why I'm kinda doing nothing. Aw cripes, here comes Gordon, look busy!"

The boy couldn't help but smile as Justin picked up some papers frantically started flipping through them. "Why look busy? I doubt you'll be fired for getting water."

"I'm new; I don't want to start out on the wrong foot."

Gordon and the others made their way down the hall and Robin stepped beside Justin. "Why don't we hide rather than look busy."

"What? Well, 'cause we could get in more trouble for that!" Justin looked confused. "Why would _you_ want to hide anyhow? You're Robin!"

The boy rolled his eyes but closed his mouth as Gordon caught sight of him. The Commissioner made a beeline for him.

"Robin, there you are!" The man smiled at the two standing side-by-side. "And Officer… Extine, correct?"

Justin looked thrilled for being called by his name – by the commissioner. "Yes sir!"

Gordon chuckled. "Have you boys been up to much?"

"Just talking," Robin carefully answered, making sure there was an edge in his voice.

"Very good, well, if you don't mind Justin – I need to steal your friend from you." Gordon smiled pleasantly and Robin scowled.

"Oh- sure, erm--" Justin looked at the Boy Wonder--"I'll see you around?"

The boy nodded, "yeah, what shift are you usually?"

"Morning, early morning," Justin replied, "if you ever are around come and find me."

"Be happy too." Robin then followed Gordon down the hall, waving to Justin, hoping he had just made a friend.

* * *

Robin awoke the next morning to the sound of running water; he groggily checked his mask to find it securely in place, and then got to his feet. The boy walked into the halls, quietly finding the bathroom in the dark and flicked the lights on. He closed the door firmly, and then proceeded to lock it. Tim took a short shower, allowing himself the freedom of removing his mask, and then wrapped a towel around his waist, making his way back down the hall to his room.

The boy sighed as he dressed, looking around the room. He couldn't manage to call it _his_ room. He didn't know why, it just didn't feel right. It had been a few weeks now since the bombing and Tim felt he was ready to face the manor to attempt to steal a few of his things.

There was a dull knock on his door and the boy carefully replaced his mask, than slipping his feet into his flip-flops. There was another knock and Tim grunted, "Hold on a minute!" He then opened the door, looking at Gordon. "Yeah?"

"Hey, you mind if I come in so we can talk for a few?" Gordon actually waited for an answer, which Tim couldn't help but notice. "Uhhh…sure, come on in."

Gordon did, and sat down on the unmade bed, looking around the room. "I haven't been in here for awhile, is it holding up all right for you?"

Tim nodded, placing his hands on his hips. "It's fine. Is there something you need to talk about? Or are we just visiting?"

"There is something I would like to discuss with you actually." Gordon removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes gingerly. "Well, I guess we already lightly touched the matter, but I would like to bring it up again, that and a few other things. Robin, we need to decide what is happening."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not here to try and figure out who you are – I'll be sure no one finds out who you are, and I don't want to know who you are if you don't want to tell me. But the trouble is school, school and whether or not you have any family you can live with permanently."

Robin studied the man, feeling the butterflies in his gut act up again. "I can't tell you something like that." The boy could feel his cheeks turning red, and he couldn't stop them from doing so.

Gordon noticed this and frowned. "You don't have to give me names, just tell me if you actually have family who can take you in, that's all I want to know. You don't have to mention people who wouldn't be willing."

"My family – erm – no. I don't know…I don't think I have a family." Tim released a long breath. "I couldn't say. And anyways, Batman might come back."

"Besides one of your friends coming back – you have no one."

"My…parents aren't…They don't…Well, we never…no, there's none. There's no one else.

Gordon nodded his head, "very well – now I am going to make you an offer. You may live with me, under my house as long as you understand one thing. You have to do as I tell you, I'll give you as much freedom as I can – as much freedom as I'm able. But you are still a boy, and you still need an education. I've asked around, and found you a tutor from the police station."

Tim was studying the man. "And you won't let me be Robin if I say I'm going to leave?"

"If you leave you must have some sort of support that can allow you to safely be Robin." Gordon smiled wryly.

"Who is the tutor?"

Gordon frowned for a moment, then reestablished him stature. "It's Bullock."

Tim's mouth opened at this, "_Harvey_ Bullock? I thought he hated the entire Bat-clan."

"Yes, you're right."

"How can you spare _him_ just so he can tutor _me_? And since when can he teach? Since when can he even read?" Robin considered this being a joke – how could someone like Bullock teach him?

"Well, it wouldn't be for long, he would just teach you what you need to know – you know – maybe for three hours a day. The subjects you _have_ to know. And Bullock isn't as stupid as people take him for, Robin. Looks can be deceiving, I mean, you don't exactly _look_ like Robin material."

Tim glared at Gordon, but let the comment pass. "Why would he agree to teach me? Are you forcing him? If so I don't feel like I should agree to this."

"No, I'm not forcing anything Tim, I just offered him pay – and Montoya said a few words with him. She's his partner; he respects her as much as he does me. And I think the both of us managed to get it through that he was the only person trustworthy enough to teach you and not make any attempts to unmask you. Montoya has too many responsibilities on the force, and there's no one else I can trust." Gordon got to his feet, and then walked to the door. "I'll let you think about it. Meantime, I'm cooking some breakfast, are you planning to come to the office with me?"

"I'll be by later today, I have to stop and see an old friend about something – don't look at me like that – it's not Robin business, I swear."

Gordon looked confused, but nodded. "Ok."

_To be continued…_

IAmTheWalrus909: Hello! What other section would you suggest? I suppose I could move it to the Batman Adventures, but I didn't feel up to that sort of move. I started this a few years ago, like three, lol, and I didn't even know about that section! Hee-hee, I was young.

I agree with you the fanfiction is dragging, I've been trying to find a useful plot that I enjoy. So I gave a little hint at the action that is going to take place.

As for Batman… lol… you'll find out if he's dead or alive… or wherever he may be! Thanks for the review!

KTfanfic: Thanks, I am glad you enjoyed it! I hope this chapter is a little longer, and perhaps a little more pleasurable ! Thanks, thanks, thanks for the review!

Trunksblue: Hey you! Long time no see, lol, not really. Glad you like this fanfiction, and I'm glad I still get to hear from you, considering For Who You Are is done with, sadness abounds at this moment. Hee-hee, but that's ok! Thanks for the review! It's wonderful to hear from old friends!

As for the mask itching… lol, I agree! I mean, he can only have it for so long! But it hasn't been that long either… but it has. Ok, I'll have to double check how long it's been. I couldn't say ;).

TheDudeLordofFantasy: I'm going to call you TDLoF from now on, winks, not really, but you do have a long name! Hee-hee. I actually think that's a good idea, that Robin tells Gordon that Barbara was part of the Bat-clan, and I'll add it in there (and give you credit of course!) Thanks for the review!

Spin-FireStorm: You guessed right, he's going to hold on a little longer before there are tears. But you'll just have to wait till he breaks under all the weight – it'll be sad! You might be shocked about this new tutor, hope he's likable though, lol! Thanks for the review! I really, really enjoyed reading it!

Nikita6: Thanks, thanks, thanks, thanks! I love when I get reviews, and I am so happy you gave me one! I hope you like this chapter too, tell me what you think! 

Thanks for all the reviews! I really love getting reviews; it always helps me keep the fan fiction moving! So if you like it and want it to move really fast get me more, lol, I'm kidding, I'll keep writing no matter what. But I do enjoy reviews! So thanks to all who were kind and gave them!


	7. Chapter Seven

"Like New Years Eve – tonight's underway. But tomorrow you'll wake up afraid of the day. Cause underneath the scars of your broken dreams an undone war still wages and stings. You fear the year will blow like a breeze through a rainbow – you swear it's there but you can't grab a hold so you sit and cry and wonder why – why – why. When all of your tears dry let your troubles roll by. So pay no mind, my sorrows fine. The day is alive and that's why I cry. You've come far and though you're far from the end you don't mind where you are because you know where you've been."

-Carbon Leaf 'Let Your Troubles Roll By'

_**Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts:**_

_By: The BatThing_

_Edited By: Ariel _

Tim leaned against the huge gates of Wayne Manor and looked up to his broken home. Hands in his pockets, clenched tightly and helping to steel his resolve, the boy started to walk the long drive, trying not to lose his courage. He wouldn't be childish about something like this – after all, Wayne Manor wasn't a person. It was a building. Just a building.

Deep down Tim couldn't help but feel terrible. It was his home he was walking too, a home that was empty. No Dick, no Barbara, no Alfred, no Bruce, and no chance at them all being together again. 'Like a nightmare,' Tim thought, 'it's like a nightmare.'

The walk was shorter than Tim had hoped; it wasn't long before he found himself standing before the front doors, hand on the doorknob. Just as he had assumed, it was locked. Not that it mattered – the boy pulled out his keys (he always kept them with him now, for some reason) and carefully entered, closing the door firmly behind him.

He was here, and oh, he had to swallow hard past the lump in his throat. Tim considered turning tail and simply running. He could come back when he was stronger, when he was ready. 'When will I ever be ready?' Tim thought as he climbed the stairs. He came to his room and entered, closing the door behind him once more. He moved straight for his closet and pulled out an old suitcase. The boy dropped it on his bed and carefully began moving clothes from his chest into the bag. Once he had a few articles of clothing, Tim picked up a few other important things.

He dropped to his knees and slid under the bed, snatching up an envelope that was shoved up between the headboard and the mattress. With a small sneeze –the dust bunnies multiplied without Alfred to sweep them up- the boy opened it. He looked at the pictures included, one of his father and mother, long before they had Tim. The other was of Bruce and Dick, where Dick looked no older than eleven. Tim had stolen both the pictures.

The boy slid back out, and tucked the pictures in a small compartment in his pack, hidden from sight. He then lifted the mattress and pulled out a bat-a-rang. A thin smile traced his lips at the sight of it. How long had it been since he had last laid his hands on this? He used to cling to the sharp metal the same way a child with a happier life would a ragged rabbit. Tim had owned this long before he even knew Bruce was the Batman.

The boy made his way to the window, and looked out it, glancing across the yard. The familiar feeling came over his body, he would always watch at the window when six rolled around. Six meant Bruce came home – six meant that it was Robin time. The boy looked miserably around, as if Bruce just might drive up, and he'd realize that he wasn't alone. That he _hadn't_ been left behind.

Stupid.

It was stupid to think about, and Tim started giggling at the idea. The giggles grew strong – till it he was laughing so hard his sides hurt. The boy sunk to the ground and the laughter soured, turning into gasps, and then slowly into sobs, the boy ripped off his mask for the first time in months, allowing the hot tears to flow freely. "Come back," he sobbed, "**_please, _**just come ba-ha-ha-hack."

* * *

It wasn't till one in the afternoon that Tim found himself back at the police station. He kept his head down, not wanting to see anyone, not wanting to see their looks – their glances his way, still curious after so long.

"Ah! Robin!"

The boy lifted his head and was a little disgruntled to see Justin running his way. As much as the raven haired hero would adore having a friend – he just didn't feel like one at this moment. He wanted to be _alone_.

Justin was smiling as he came to a stop before the boy, "I bet you wonder why I'm working at this time of day, huh? Well, it seems I keep getting bounced around; actually, my partner and I were here pretty late last night so we took this shift. What are you up too?"

"Not much," Robin admitted.

"I'm just going through the bomb work, paper work, covering the missing people and those who died. You know – updating the files. It's not much fun, but I suppose it's better than what they've been putting me on lately." Justin laughed and scratched the back of his head with a shrug. "Ha!"

Tim tried look like he cared. "Where are you working?"

Justin nodded, "I'm on break – so I can show you, come on!" He took Robin a little ways down the hall to a small room, filled with file cabinets. There was a small desk and papers clutter all around it. "Yeah, so, this is my hole in the building. Sometimes I think I must be weird, considering they put me way back here."

Tim lifted a paper and looked over it, reading the names of those who still hadn't been found. Ah – he found his name listed. Strange to think he was still safe, right under their noses. He prayed that Bruce had met a similar fate. He put the paper down and picked up another, with the W's. Yep, Wayne, Bruce, still not found. 'That's good, I suppose.'

"Yeah – so," Justin picked up a small mug and took a long sip. "Ahh, good stuff."

Tim didn't waste time watching him, he found the G's and scanned through. 'Grayson – Grayson, where are the Grayson's? I know Dick hasn't been found yet, so why isn't he on here?' The boy dropped the papers, and looked at Justin. "Where is the list of those who have died?"

"It's um, updated, I just got the new copy. Here," Justin pulled out a thick stack of papers and handed it to the masked boy, looking confused. "Is something the matter?"

"No, not really," Tim replied, trying to look as if everything were fine. It was hard. G's, Grayson – Grayson, Grayson, Joel – Grayson, Martha –Grayson, Mick –Grayson, Richard. Tim dropped the papers, throat tightening. He felt his knees grow weak, and tried to casually lower himself into a nearby chair. "Looks like a lot of people were lost," Tim said, crossing his arms across his chest. '_Keep your calm, just get out of here_.'

Justin nodded. "It's sad, but yeah."

"Um, I--I have to go see Gordon about something, I'll see you later – ok?"

Justin smiled. "Sure Robin, I'll see you later."

Tim closed the door behind him, and then took off – feeling his stomach churn. He slammed into the bathroom, and managed to make it to the sink before vomiting. He felt the taste of acid in his mouth and gasped, quickly turning the water on and washing the sink out. He shook his head, watching the water flow, and feeling he might get sick again.

_Dick's gone. Barbara and Alfred are gone. _

Tim's body shook slightly as he raised his eyes to the mirror. He opened his mouth in a silent scream, squeezing his eyes shut and slamming both fists into either side of his head. Gripping his hair he pulled, shaking his head firmly. "It's not fucking _fair_!" The last word was a shriek.

He collapsed to the ground and shoved the heel of his hands into his eyes, shaking his head violently, rocking back and forth. Primal noises came from his mouth, primal and on the verge of breaking into sobs.

"Not again, don't you cry again!" He slammed his head into the wall, in an attempt to stop the oncoming wave. "Ow!"

Tim sat in silence after that, head hanging, and hands limp on his knees. He could feel the throbbing in the back of his head, but ignored it completely. The wave of grief was more exhausting than a week of combat, than his entire life since the bombing.

'It'd be nice to sleep and not wake up,' he thought. 'It'd be really, _really_ nice.'

The sound of a door opening interrupted his reverie; eyes flashing Tim stared up at Bullock. The man looked uncharacteristically concerned as his gaze settled on the boy on the floor.

"What's your problem?" Tim seethed.

Bullock looked at him strangely, and then outstretched his hand, "come on, Commish is wonderin' where ya' are."

Tim swatted the hand away and slowly rose to his feet, "I suppose I can't be granted a few hours of freedom, huh?"

"What happened ta' ya'?"

"What?"

"Ya head. What happened?"

Tim carefully touched the back of his head and felt something sticky. He turned and looked at the wall and rolled his eyes at the small – but very visible – red smear. "Great." Walking into the stall he took some tissue paper and soaked it in the sink for a moment, then scrubbed at the wall. "Tell him I'll be there in a moment."

"Do ya' know where 'dere' is?"

"His office?" Tim gave a disgusted look. "Yeah, I _think_ I just might know."

"He ain't in his office, genius."

Tim tossed the wet tissue and shrugged his shoulders. "Then where is he, _Bullock_?"

"He's out lookin' for ya – listen, somethin's 'da matter, I can tell 'dat much." The man stood a little taller, and then shrugged unconcernedly, "I jus' thought I'd tell ya' 'dat I don't mind tutorin' you, so long as you don't mind havin' me teach you."

'Great, he throws something like that at me and what am I supposed to do?' Tim shrugged.

The two stood in silence for a few seconds and then Robin lifted up his backpack and pushed the door open. "Bye."

"Right."

* * *

Tim used the phone in Montoya's office and quickly called Gordon's cell, waiting patiently as it rang. Gordon was less than pleased.

"Where have you been? It's been close to seven hours since you left this morning! You didn't even bother to check back."

"Sorry."

"You've been gone for hours, and we've been trying to reach you."

"Sorry."

Gordon was silent, re-thinking his lecture. "Ok, fine. Listen, kid, I'm not that upset that you didn't check back. I understand you need some personal space. But, you also need to remember that rules are rules. That's all I want for you to know. Ok?"

"Sure." Robin's voice wasn't sure, and he wasn't sorry. He wasn't fine, and he didn't feel any regret towards his actions. And all that was showing in his tone. His words were agreeing, but his voice was another story.

Silence. "Are you still at the station?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'll swing by and pick you up. We're taking the night off."

"Perhaps you didn't talk with Montoya? We're in the middle of a case that requires attention. I'm _sorry_ I didn't check in, but this is a little more important, don't you think?"

"Mr. Zsasz? Montoya discovered it was a false lead – which lead us in a wild goose chase after you." Gordon paused and then sighed. "I'll swing by. Don't worry, it's your job to hunt the streets – you can do that tonight. Leave the paperwork to Montoya, all right?"

Robin hung up the phone without answering and turned to Montoya. "It was a false lead? How'd we figure that out?"

"Well, it turns out that Zsasz's body was found. He was murdered, and dumped in the Gotham River." The young woman tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled a little. "Of course, when we found him we didn't even know that it was him – if you know what I mean."

"Sure, I know." Robin turned around and headed out of the office, closing the door behind him. His eyes flashed as a figure came running towards him. It was Justin.

"Hey dude, the commissioner was looking for you."

Robin nodded slowly. "Yeah, I just talked with him."

The young cop smiled a little and then placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You look beat, maybe you should head home. You know, take a few?"

"Sure, I know."

"Anyhow, if you can – try and get a hold of me in the next few days. I'm having a party, and it'd be awesome if you'd come." Justin grinned all the more at the thought. "I thought you might not like it if, like, people you didn't know came, so I just invited a few other cops who are cool."

"Look, Justin…eh, I'll be sure to think about it and try to get a hold of you." Robin started away, glancing over his shoulder. "See you later."

"Yep, later."

* * *

Robin watched as Gordon's car pulled up to the curb, and the boy started down the steps. He climbed into the car and blinked at Gordon, who was looking at him as if disappointed. "What?"

"You probably shouldn't wait outside in the future; people will notice a boy with a mask. We don't want press finding out that you're staying with me. Things will get messy."

"How is it the press hasn't already found out? I don't believe for a moment that Gotham City's police force is filled with saints. I mean, some of them have to get extra cash somehow. I bet half of them work for the Penguin!" Robin rolled down the window as they started back towards the Gordon house. "Besides, I wanted to get outside for a little while."

"Roll the window up. And, if it's important that you get out, wear sunglasses. People won't think anything of a boy wearing sunglasses."

Robin turned his head, and gave a short nod. "Fine. But how is it that the press doesn't know?"

"Just like not all cops can be trusted, not all journalists can be trusted. I have a few friends who watch out for me."

"Right, I doubt a few friends would keep something like that hidden."

"True, but the only thing they'd know would be that there is a masked boy hanging out in the police station. I'm sure they could say you're Robin, but people already know Robin works for me." There was a pause. "The only people who know you are staying with me are the few I trust. Everyone else believes that you still live wherever you use to."

"You know, it might have been useful if I knew this. What if I told someone that I was staying with you?" The boy and slouched in the seat. "I mean, _come_ _on_."

Gordon glanced at the Boy Wonder with a smirk. "I hardly doubt you trust just anyone."

Robin shrugged. "When you're alone you learn to do anything for a friendly chat."

"You're the Batman's son, I doubt you get that desperate."

The boy bristled, and then turned on the man, growling now. "I told you before! I'm NOT _his_ son! And what do you know about Batman! How dare you assume, you and the rest of them! It's all you do, assume that we – that we're just _fine_. You all assume that I can't get desperate."

"What? Now calm down a moment here." Gordon was surprised at this unexpected outburst. "I never assumed that you were fine."

"You said so! You said that you doubted I would get desperate! Well Jim, I am! I'm desperate!" The boy felt the pain in his head coming back full blow. "I'd do anything to go home! ANYTHING! I'm sick of living with you, and following _your_ rules! I've grown up!"

"Don't fool yourself."

"I'm NOT! I can survive on my _own_!"

"You're so grown up that you just give up?"

"I haven't given up, asshole!"

"Oh yes you have! If you hadn't then you wouldn't be like this. You would be coping and accepting the losses you've suffered. You need to move on! Rather you sit around and scrape by. You push yourself too hard, eat only the bare minimum, seclude yourself, and ignore any help offered. You're giving up everything your father would want for you."

Robin was seeing red. "HE'S NOT MY FATHER, DAMMIT! What the hell makes you think you know so much?"

They were now pulling into the drive, and Robin was already going for the handle, but Gordon locked the doors, and then grabbed the boy by his forearm. "He wanted you to be happy, father or not, he did care for you. He was your _family_."

"Let me GO! Stop talking about him!"

"He would want you to move on, accept his death!"

"You don't KNOW that!"

"He IS! HE'S _DEAD_!"

Robin fell silent. "How do you know?" This time it was a question, a desperate question needing an answer.

"If he were alive he would have come back for you. Would the Batman actually abandon you? Would he leave _his_ city?"

"Shut up, shut up." The boy was shivering now. "Don't talk about that."

"Robin, son, listen." Gordon released the boy's arm and placed both hands on the boy's shoulders. "It's time to move on. He's gone."

"But I don't want him to be gone…" The boy was now crying, his voice breaking. "He's the only one left besides _me_."

Gordon gave an understanding nod. "I know it feels like that, but-."

"I found out that Nightwing died today," Robin interrupted. "Batgirl's gone too. So please, please don't make me believe Batman's gone. I can't do that. Please," the boy clutched the man's jacket, looking up at him. "Tell me he's alive. PLEASE! Lie to me, I don't care, convince me he's ok and he's coming back! I don't know what I'll do if he really is…dead."

"Robin, I-."

"PLEASE!"

Gordon shook his head. "I can't."

_To be continued…_


	8. Chapter Eight

"I C-A-N. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can."

- The Pillows 'I Think I Can' -

**Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts:**

By: The BatThing

"Accept it." Robin breathed deeply and sighed, feeling his warm breath against his hand. It was time to move on, time to accept what everyone was saying. Not muttering anything more, Tim sat in the fading sunlight in the 'backyard' of where Gordon and he lived. There wasn't any grass, just a single tree in the middle of the – almost empty - parking lot.

"What are you doing?"

Turning around, Robin faced a younger girl, looking down at him, confused. She couldn't be any older than ten.

"What are you doing, just sitting here?" Her big blue eyes blinked at him and her mouth was hanging open. "Why do you have on sunglasses? It's not that sunny out."

"Eh?" Tim carefully felt his glasses, and then shrugged, thankful that he had decided to wear them rather than the mask. "They're, um, they're in style."

Apparently the girl believed him, and now she was starting to fashion a smile. "My name's Annika. I'm nine. Do you have any sidewalk chalk?"

Robin blinked, trying to take in the information being given to him. "Sidewalk chalk?"

"Yeah, you know sidewalk chalk." She pulled out a single piece of pink chalk from her pocket and squatted down beside him. Without a word she wrote her name on the pavement. When she finished she looked up at the boy. "And your name - for the record."

The boy thought about how to answer that. He could tell her Robin; sure, that was a boy's name. But he could already hear Gordon gripping about how the neighbors found out the masked boy was named Robin. "It's, um – Quinn."

"Quinn?"

"Yeah. Quinn."

The girl wrote his name down beside hers and then looked up at the boy she now knew as 'Quinn'. "You're old."

"Eh?"

"You're like, 15. I'll probably get in trouble for talking to _you_."

"Then you shouldn't talk to me."

"There isn't anyone else." She handed him the chalk, which he accepted, and stretched out her legs. "This place doesn't have many kids around, just a bunch of old people who don't like change … or for that matter sidewalk chalk."

Robin listened to her ramble as he drew a line on the parking lot ground, looking at the color. Pink. The boy began to write down random letters and numbers.

"They say this isn't a safe spot to live, Commissioner Gordon lives around here. That should make it safe, but mom and dad don't think so anymore. Not after the bombings. They said that he's probably a target now-a-days. We almost didn't move here because of that, but our home was destroyed by the bombs."

"So was mine."

Annika's eyes got wide, as if she suddenly was seeing a new person. "Really?"

"Yeah, really."

The girl smiled all the more. "Then you understand. Where do you live?"

"I, um." He scratched the back of his head, not really wanting to tell her he lived with the Commissioner. "With, the, er – the Commissioner."

"Oh, so you're his kid? I thought his kid died, that's what mom and dad said."

"He's my, my dad's friend." Tim could feel his cheeks turning red as the girl looked almost doubtful. "What?"

There was a moment of hesitation before she spoke. "I'm sorry. My best friend lost her grandpa in the bombing too."

Robin didn't look at her, nor did he reply. The two sat for a few minutes, the sun setting faster and faster. It was almost dark.

"ANNIKA!"

"Whops, that's my mom, I better go!" She jumped to her feet and started off, only to stop and turn back around. "My sidewalk chalk, you can keep it."

Tim looked down at the chalk and then back to the girl. "Thanks." She ran off, leaving Robin to himself. The boy got up and dusted off the seat of his pants as he walked back to the house. It was the first time, in a while, where his thoughts were solely on Barbara. 'I don't even know _how_ she died.'

"Ah, so you're home." Gordon was sitting in front of the television when Tim entered the house. His eyes landed on the piece of pink chalk in the boy's hand. "Where were you?"

"Talkin'." Tim started for his room, feeling the need to sleep.

"Talking to _whom_?"

"A girl called Annika."

Gordon closed his mouth and raised and eyebrow. "A girl?"

"A _ten_-year-old girl. I told her my name was Quinn. So, just incase you get any questions."

"Well, at least you're making friends – no matter the age." Gordon turned back to the television. "I'll remember that, _Quinn_."

Robin stood, and then took a step backwards. "Jim, can I ask you a question?"

The man looked over his shoulder. "Yes."

"H-how did Barb die?" The boy lowered his head but kept his eyes locked on the man before the television. "It's not really my business, but – I, just was …wondering."

For a few moments the only noise was the television, a commercial advertising. "High Standards, Low Prices – Meijer."

Gordon flicked his remote up and switched off the T.V. He got to his feet and faced the boy, turning his head a little. "She was driving – at least that's what the man who found her, told me. She died on impact, I don't know much else."

"Eh?" Robin closed his mouth, feeling bad for his surprise. "I-I'm sorry. It's just been in the back of my mind."

"Don't be."

The boy offered a small smile. "Goodnight, Jim."

"'Night, and Robin? I might be getting up early tomorrow and going to Barbara's apartment – I think it's about time I brought her stuff home." The man shrugged his shoulders with a weary look. "I'll swing by and pick you up for work on the way back, ok?"

"S-Sure."

The man smiled, and then headed towards the kitchen. Robin made his way for bed. When he did _finally_ fall asleep, the boy had a fitful one, tossing and turning. He awoke, thoughts steaming. "Barbara's costume!" He jumped out of bed and threw his sunglasses on. How could he have just let something like this slide. It wasn't just Barb's costume – it was all their costumes. 'Stupid, stupid, STUPID!'

Tim changed into a pair of shorts, a T-shirt, and laced his shoes – fumbling a little as he did so. He reached down and grabbed his backpack, tossing it over his arms and pulling it up to rest on his shoulders. The boy hurried out of his room and to the closet near the entrance. Robin opened the door and pulled out the old bike that sat inside. And then wheeled it outdoors and took off.

The sun was already coming up, as the boy biked to Dick Grayson's loft. It was located near the river – which took almost half an hour to get to – unfortunately. Tim let the bike fall to the ground as he sprung towards the river bay. As far as he knew – this was the only way to get into Dick's loft - the secret passage. It would be gross. The boy hurried and began to wade through the river, trying hard not to think how gross it actually was. He found the pipe that led in and made a face. Gross.

By the time he was inside he found it a waste. Dick had the place sealed – stupid, of course he would. "Damn it, Dick! How am I supposed to save the secret if you have the place sealed up!"

Wait.

That was it.

The boy hurried out of the muck and ran back to his bike, not enjoying the sloshy shoes and damp shorts he was now sporting. 'They can't sell Dick's loft, not yet. Bruce hasn't been found, and I haven't either. So that means that it's ours.'

Robin took a moment to breathe and think things through. When he got frantic he just acted – without thinking. Finally, after a moment or two, he headed towards Barb's.

Jim was already at Barbara's when Tim parked his bike. He looked at the car, a little worried, but made his way inside. It took a few minutes to convince the woman at the desk he knew Jim, and well, even then she called up to make sure.

"Mr. Gordon?"

There was a pause, and then a click. "Yes?"

"There is a boy down here who says he knows you and wants to come up. Say his name's Quinn." The woman blinked at Robin.

"Oh yes, I know him – send him up."

The boy made his way up and opened the door to her apartment, and saw Jim piling things into large black garbage bags. "What are you doing here – and how did you get here?"

"I took the bike from the closet." Robin glanced around. He didn't have a clue where Barbara would keep her costume. Not a clue.

"You're wet – and to be honest, smell." Gordon smiled a little. "What'd you _fall_ in? Smells like the river. You'll probably want to change before we go to work."

Robin blinked and then looked down at his clothes. "Probably."

"Why'd you come?"

"I, uh, wanted to help."

"Help? Why?" The man was now moving on to the kitchen. "I think I have it almost done. But thanks."

'Where, where, where …' Robin moved toward the girl's room and opened the door, finding it still untouched. He could hear Jim still talking as he walked over to her chest of drawers. 'Crap, how am I supposed to know this? She never mentioned _where_ she hid her stuff to him.'

The boy caught sight of a picture frame, and inside were the smiling faces of Dick and her. Both were apparently laughing – and obviously younger. Tim lifted the frame up and studied the faces for a moment, only to set it back down and continue his search.

There was a knock at the open door. "What are you _doing_? Or better yet, what are you looking for?" Jim had his arms crossed and didn't look pleased.

Robin jolted from looking under her bed and closed his open mouth.

Gordon walked into the room and looked under the bed himself, he straightened back up and looked at the boy standing before him. "Are you going to tell me what you're up too poking around my daughter's bedroom?"

Tim glared, not understanding why he suddenly was getting upset at the man. "It's none of your business."

"Oh, but it is. These are my daughter's things, things that are important to me, and you are poking around. I want to know why." Gordon held his ground, returning the glare being given.

"I was curious, that's all - curious and bored."

"I thought you were going to help me pack things up. How'd you get bored if you were working?"

"Working _is_ boring."

"Then why'd you come?"

Robin crossed his own arms and tried to give a dangerous look. "If I were trying to find something then I doubt you would know about it. I wouldn't just, so _blatantly_ look for something important. Like I said, I was _bored_."

"You didn't answer my question, if you hate working, why did you come?"

"I needed to get out of the house, I found the bike and decided to use it."

"Then go out and bike, I don't want you messing around with my daughter's things." Gordon gestured towards the door. "You can bike to work, it's not that far."

'At least he bought the excuse – now just to find a way to find the costume before he does.' Robin walked out of the room and headed slowly towards the door. "I – I'm sorry for poking around, I didn't mean to upset you."

Jim made a strange noise, probably something of doubt.

"Really, and um." The boy turned around to face the man. "I'll help you clean up."

"No, I think it'd be best to go back to the house and change. It's almost time for work anyway." The man studied the boy and then shook his head. "Did you, did you know Barbara?"

"No." Robin lifted his head a little. "I'm sorry though, about her loss. I – I knew of her."

"Thank you." Gordon pointed towards the door. "Now please, I need to finish this on my own."

When Tim was out of the room he cursed under his breath. 'Now what!' The boy glanced towards the stairs and then back at the closed door. It was crazy, but it would get Jim out of the room. The boy walked towards the stairwell and looked down it, then secured his glasses and jumped up on the railing. Without any warning, without any other thoughts, Tim allowed himself to free fall.

Jim jerked his head up at the sound of Robin's voice, the man dropped the large garbage bag and ran out of the room. "Robin?"

Silence for a moment then an answer. "I think I broke my ankle, _shit_."

The man ran towards the stairs and found the boy on the ground, clutching his leg. Gordon ran down the stairs and kneeled at Robin's side. "What the hell happened?"

"I think that's, urg, obvious."

"I see you managed to get your sunglasses back on." Jim reached down to the boy's foot and pulled the shoe off. "How in the hell did _you_ fall?"

"Could I just get some ice or something." Robin groaned.

The commissioner frowned, feeling the ankle. "It's not broken, but probably badly twisted – what else?"

Tim winced as the man pressed against the foot. "My ribs, my arm, and my head, that's all that right now."

Gordon shook his head, smiling a little as he pushed the boy's hair back, showing a small gash. "You banged your head all right, but you'll be fine. Nevertheless, let's get you to a doctor who won't ask any questions."

"No doctor."

"Doctor."

"**_No_**."

"You could have cracked ribs, something unseen – you did just fall down a flight of stairs." The man got to his feet. "It'd probably be the smart thing to call an ambulance, but I won't – so take what you get. I'm going to lock up Barb's apartment, and then we're going to a doctor. Ok?"

Robin watched the man walk up the stairs and the boy couldn't help but grin a little. It had worked, now it was just a matter of getting back to the apartment and finding the costume before Jim did.

_To be continued…_


	9. Chapter Nine

"I watched my dreams all fade away and blister in the sun. Everything I've ever had is unraveled and undone. I sit upon the worthless stack of my ambitious plans. The people that I loved the most have turned their backs and ran. Loneliness has left me searching for someone to love, sorrows open up my eyes to see what real joy is. Pain has been the catalysis to what real joy is. This is the good life."

-Audio Adrenaline 'Good Life'-

**Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts:**

By: The BatThing

Robin walked out of the examination room with Leslie at his side. It was good to see her again. It hadn't been long since the two had last talked, but it still seemed like forever. Forever since Gotham had crumpled, since Tim had become alone, and since Gordon and began to care.

"Tell Gordon it's on me." Leslie told the boy as she drew him in her arms, and smiled as Robin quickly pulled back. He looked around as if worried someone might have witnessed the event. "You come and visit, alright? No more long weeks where you leave me helplessly in the dark."

"Right." The boy responded. He allowed a small smile, but then turned and hurried on down the hall. When he came into the waiting room he found no familiar face. Gordon wasn't insight, odd. Tim made his way to the office manager and questioned if she knew where the man had gone.

"Commissioner Gordon told me to tell you to sit tight – don't leave; he said he'd be back as quickly as possible." She glanced around the room, then at Tim. "Do you want to schedule another appointment?"

For a moment Robin was confused, thinking perhaps she meant that he hadn't seen the doctor. "No, that's fine. I'll call and schedule."

"Do you need our phone number? Here, take this card, it had a list of numbers." She paused, looking at his sunglasses. "Do you need a doctor's note for school?"

The boy considered telling her no, but thought she might think that a bit strange. "Sure." And he watched as she stamped something on a piece of paper and handed it to him. "Thanks."

"Of course, have a good day."

"Yeah." Tim took a seat and began to wait, as he had been told. He ended up waiting for an hour, reading different months of _People_ and _Time_ Magazine. In then end, when Gordon finally did come, the boy been bored enough to pick up Highlights and start playing the children's games inside.

"Amused?"

Robin's head shot up and he slipped the magazine on the table beside him. "No, bored. Was there a police emergency or something? You took long enough; I almost got up and left. Another ten minutes and I would have, then where would you be?"

Gordon didn't look sorry; he looked like he'd been an only survivor from some freak train wreck. The man motioned for the boy to get up and get moving and then turned and walked out of the door.

This took Tim by surprise on different levels, and his heart sank knowing the likely reason. He sauntered off after the man - head feeling like a thousand pounds, stomach taking flight, and legs feeling like rubber. He slipped into the car and Jim instantly locked the doors and turned to face the boy. And Tim heard a loud 'POP' explode as the commissioner's fist landed on his cheek. The boy's head slammed into the window with an ugly crack.

"_YOU LIED TO ME!" _

Knowing better than to talk, Tim was silent.

"YOU TRIED TO KEEP ME FROM FINDING OUT YOUR ROTTEN SECRET. YOU LIVED UNDER MY ROOF, I PROVIDED FOR YOU, I TRUSTED YOU! DID YOU THROW YOURSELF DOWN THE STARIS ON PURPOSE? I HOPE SO, I HOPE YOU FELT SO GUILTY YOU JUST LET YOURSELF FALL. BUT THAT CAN'T BE THE CASE, CAN IT? YOU DID IT TO PROTECT YOUR SECRET!"

This was different, this was totally different. When Tim found himself into similar situations with Bruce it never evolved yelling (rather just a low voice that was probably worse), or wishes that the boy would fling himself down a flight of stairs. Robin had only ever been hit once in his life by Bruce, and it hadn't been like this. Trust for Commissioner Gordon slowly diminished and the need to go back home, to Wayne Manor, grew. _Bruce_ would never do this. _Bruce_ wouldn't treat him like this. No. Matter. What.

Gordon seemed to be forcing himself, with great distaste, to calm down. And while he did manage to clam down somewhat, it wasn't much improvement. _**"S-she, Barbara, she died because of your secret."** _

At this Tim couldn't help but look confused. He shook his head slowly. "I didn't know that."

"You _didn't_ **know**?"

"I didn't know." Robin repeated. "How could I?"

"Perhaps the reason you couldn't find her costume was a good give away?"

"If you didn't find her costume, how did you -."

"Her computer, damnit. Her computer gave it all away, her computer and you." Gordon glared out the windshield. "I couldn't hack into much, she made sure to keep you all safe. One try and all the information was deleted. But she had other stuff, files from the police that she shouldn't have, contacts that were unreasonable. She had background information on people _that wasn't even open to me_. You and your reckless behavior spoke in volumes, I suspected something was up."

"That's still not -."

"_It was enough_. I suspected with everything that was going on that she was one of two things. Either some criminal hacker _or_ she was operating as Batgirl. I figured the later. Batgirl never came around me if she could avoid it, yes, I noticed. That and she had a lot of similarities as my daughter. Red hair and small build being a big one. The way you acted, the way you kept asking about her. I knew that she and you knew each other."

Tim looked away, still wondering how Gordon could accuse the secret for killing Barbara. There was no proof that the girl was acting as Batgirl when she died. After all, the man who came had said she had been in a car accident, so said Gordon. "The man who told you she had died, who was he?"

Gordon looked at the boy. "I have no idea. But let me venture a guess that it was one of your friends. Probably was with her when she died and they just faked the accident. The secret is so much more important than the truth."

Robin didn't say anything in reply. If it had been Dick, Gordon would have recognized him, he and Barbara had dated. As for Bruce, well, the man would have surely said something about Bruce Wayne. "I'm sorry." It was true, Tim was sorry Jim was upset, that Jim was hurt. Though the boy felt no guilt for hiding the truth, it was something that Bruce would have done, even Dick. "I didn't want to betray you."

"But _you_ _did_, you did and there is no sorry that can help that."

Unsure of what his next move should be Tim sat in silent. He didn't know if Gordon wanted him to leave or if the man wished to continue yelling.

"It was mostly your boss' fault." Gordon slowly told the boy sitting next to him. "Making people make promises, making people believe it was alright to do what he was doing. It was my fault for allowing children to work for him. Damn it to hell, it's my fault."

"No." Tim suddenly said.

Gordon glared at him. "No? It is _completely_ my fault. I allowed him to use three children. I knew and I still allowed it, I felt safe – after all, for all I knew they weren't my children. I should have never done it, I should have ended it. I **_killed_** my own daughter. You can't deny that."

Silence.

"Let's just go back to the house." And the commissioner started up the car and pulled out into the street. The ride was quiet for most of the way; the only noise in the car coming from the low hum of the radio's static – though neither bothered to change it.

Tim was in a silent battle with himself, finally he decided on what to do, after all some of this was his own fault. "You know how I always got mad at you when you said that Batman was my father?"

No answer, just a look of utmost confusion. It was as if Gordon had just heard the stupidest thing in the world.

Robin regretted speaking as he turned slightly red. "Well, um, you'd always say that he was my father and I'd always get really mad at you. I just wanted to say that I lied. He was my father, but if you hadn't allowed a Robin in the city, well, then he, uh, he wouldn't have been. So, um, thanks."

Jim offered no response as he kept his eyes on the road. It wasn't until they had pulled into the parking lot that he spoke again. "Did you know her?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Did she ever say _why_ she didn't tell me?"

"She wanted to tell you, and there was a point where she, er." Robin looked away, wondering if he should mention that, it just might upset the man more.

"You were saying?"

The boy nodded as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "She had this dream, right? The Scarecrow's work, she had a dream about her worst fear. And it was that you'd find out and blame Batman. When she woke up she said she was going to tell you."

"She never told me anything."

"I guess she got scared." Tim replied. "I was hurt too; when I found out she died. I didn't want that. She was like my sister."

Gordon nodded carefully as he kept looking out the window, as if there were some amazing view before him and he couldn't concentrate on anything besides that. But the only view for the man to see was the side of a brick wall. "Leave me alone for a few moments."

Doing as he was told, the boy slid out of the car and made his way to the building. It felt wrong going inside after what just happened, like he'd be trespassing. So Tim made his way to the lot in the back, where he had seen the little girl Annika.

To his disappointment, the girl was nowhere in sight. It wasn't much fun to sit outside alone with nothing to do - it was just awkward. He hummed a quiet tune and came to the small merry go round located in the apartment's park. Tim climbed atop the handle bars and started to walk around it, causing it to turn slowly. It wasn't easy, and more than once he fell on the pavement earning a few scraps. He was already sore, with some heavy duty bruises; from falling own the stairs, so after his third fall he ended the attempt.

"That's cool."

"Eh?" Robin turned to see Annika. He couldn't help but smile, but then saw the unfamiliar face of a woman beside the girl. "Thanks."

"This is my mom."

The woman looked at Tim with forced smile, it was clear the sunglasses gave her the wrong impression. "Hello, I'm afraid I don't know your name."

"His name is Quinn." Annika announced. "He lives with the Commissioner, but isn't his son. His family died in the bombing."

"_Annika_!" The woman scolded, astonished that her daughter would say such a horrible thing before the boy.

Tim just smiled and shrugged, as if it were old news.

"Why are you all bruised up?" The little girl questioned as she broke away from her mom and sat on the merry go round. "Did you get in a fight? Does the Commissioner let you fight?"

So maybe the sunglasses weren't the only reason the girl's mother had looked at him strangely. The boy had forgotten about his 'battle scars'. "Believe it or not I fell down the stairs. I was helping Commissioner Gordon pack up his daughter's stuff and I fell down a whole flight. Just got back from the doctors, actually."

"That's not jiggy."

"That's now _what_?"

"Jiggy."

"What's that mean?"

Annika looked at her mom and then leaned towards the boy. "It means that it's not cool." She then took another glance at her chaperone.

Tim quirked a smile and slowly shook his head. "That's what you learned in kindergarten today?"

"I'm _older_ than _that_. I'm in second grade."

"Sorry."

"I have Mrs. Applegate, everyone says she's the coolest teacher. She gives kisses on our birthday and leaves huge red smears of her lipstick. She also let us eat _outside_ the other day, when we had lunch. No other class has ever done that. Will you walk on the merry go round again?"

"Ah, well, sure, I guess. But watch out, I fall a lot." Tim hoisted himself onto the playground equipment and started his walk, balancing carefully. He managed to walk around it half way before he fell to the pavement, tearing his jeans open at the knees. "_Fuck_!"

"**_You said the four letter word_**!" Annika shrieked, she clasped her hands over her ears and looked at her mother, as if the woman would give Tim what for.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to say that. I shouldn't have said that." Then he added lamely. "Don't you say it, it's, uh, not cool."

Annika just waved her finger at him. "Shame. On. You."

Robin just nodded.

"Can you teach me to walk on it like that?" Annika questioned. "I want to learn how to walk on the merry go round like you just did. That's jiggy."

"Annika, I don't want you doing that, it's too dangerous for someone your age." The girl's mother chimed. She looked at the boy she knew as Quinn, wondering how he was capable to do something like that but in the end decided it was because he was a teenage boy. And teenage boys did anything for attention, especially dangerous things. "He's bigger than you are, so it's a different story in his case."

"Mmm." The girl whined slightly but didn't ask again.

"Now it's getting late, let's get back inside, maybe tomorrow you can play with Quinn."

"Bye." Tim raised his hand and tilted it slightly, indicating a goodbye. "See you later."

_To be continued …_

Not the best of chapters, I know, but I had trouble writing this one. I think I had three different versions but decided on this one. Hope it was ok. :-) Thanks for reading.

-Cas


	10. Chapter Ten

"If I fall fast asleep it's just because I feel so safe with you. It won't take much to wake me up. When I fell down you raised me up, that's gravity. When I fell down, you were standing there, waiting for me. You raised me up, welcomed me home – that's gravity."

- Tree63 'A Million Lights' -

_**Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts:**_

By: The BatThing

"I told _you_! _I told you already_!"

Tim backed away quickly from the kitchen upon hearing the yelling coming from the room. Clearly someone came to call, and whoever that person was wasn't making Gordon happy.

There was silence, and then Gordon drilled away with his argument. "If you ever call here again I'll press charges, understand? I respect you and I'd enjoy it if you did the same for me." And with that there was a booming clatter, the phone being hung up.

Robin considered sneaking back to his room, but for some reason that didn't seem right. He had a feeling whoever was on the phone with Gordon probably had something to do with him. The boy had brought a lot of problems into the Commissioner's life. That much was for sure. Taking a careful step into the room, Robin smiled momentarily, only to feel his face flush. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I just accidentally -."

"No, it's fine." Jim said with a sigh, falling into a nearby chair. He had a hand to his forehead. "What a day, I hate to say that things might be getting worse, but it appears they very well could."

"Wha-what's up?" The Boy Wonder didn't want to make the man mad, but he had a feeling Gordon was inviting him to ask with the last statement.

"Some family who doesn't think highly of me, that's what." The man slowly looked at Robin. "They called me about a Quinn who is a bad impression on their daughter, and how I'm to blame for that."

Tim felt his mouth fall open. "Annika's parents called! Are you serious?"

With a slow nod, Gordon spoke again. "At first it was just a request that you stay away from their little girl, I told them I'd tell you that – but things quickly sped out of control. They started to blame me for the way Gotham is, and then other things. They said you're punk kid with a dirty mouth who is quickly teaching their daughter bad habits. They suggested I look after you better – due to the fact that you're making friends with small children and perform daring stunts."

"The complained because I walked on the merry-go-round?"

"They said it's a children's park, not a gym." The man chuckled. "Actually, looking back on it – the whole ordeal seems rather humorous."

"When Annika and I first met, she did mention that her parents didn't like you much." The boy tried to think back to anything else the girl might have said. "Her mom and I talked a little, well, not really, but she didn't seem upset with me."

Gordon shrugged. "There are people like that in the world, but these people seem to have that to an extreme. I guess I should feel sorry for them, they lost their home in the bombing."

Tim gave his head a violent shake. "Then they're just being selfish. At least they still have their whole family, they haven't suffered anywhere near what we have."

Jim cleared his throat, getting to his feet. "So I think it'd be best if you stay away from that little girl, and well, from the whole family – if you can avoid it, the playground too. The last thing we need is people digging into you and your staying with me."

"Sure."

"Hungry?"

Robin smiled up at the man. "Yeah, a little."

"Me too, what do you say we go out for food tonight, I don't feel much like cooking." Gordon grabbed his coat off the back of the chair and started for the door.

Tim hurried to his room, grabbing a sweat jacket and pulling it on as he ran to catch up with Jim.

* * *

Tim screwed on the cap of his water bottle and placed it down on the table. Across from him sat Jim, drinking his coffee and appearing to be in another world. The boy glanced around the small café, wondering what time it was. It had to be late, seeing how they were two of the four costumers there.

"You don't like your Cheezy Mac 'n Franks?" Gordon questioned with a smirk. He glanced down at the boy's order – barley touched.

"I've tasted better." Robin admitted, staring at the food before him.

A silence fell between the two once more, and Jim shifted in his seat, leaning back. "Yeah, this place has never had the greatest food, or coffee for that matter."

The boy cocked his head, squinting slightly. He kicked his feet slowly, causing the chair he sat on to vibrate. "Then why come here?"

"You're, um." He paused, thinking how to word what he was saying. "Your dad and I, we always came here."

The boy, who had been drinking his water, choked a bit as he dissolved into a fit of laughter. He clutched his stomach, laughing and laughing till he could catch his breath. "No way!"

"How is that funny?"

Tim considered with a chuckled. "Well, I guess you have to know him. That – and I can't see him eating in, um, heh, in uniform."

Gordon smiled, pleased to have made someone happy – it felt good to see the boy laughing. "He never stuck around for long, just to say _hi_ really."

"That's so weird, I never knew that." Robin took a bite of his macaroni, grinning. "He's really weird though, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Like, he totally doesn't get anything, I swear, you try and make a joke and the next moment you wonder why you ever thought it was funny. Or how it was impossible to tell what he was thinking, I hated that. You know how most people, you can tell? Well, not with him."

Jim listened to the rambling and he couldn't help but smile at it.

"I never knew what was coming. Like this one time I totally ticked him off. I had done something really dumb to a bunch of important papers. Anyhow, a few days pass and my brother came up to me and he was like_: what'd you do to make him so mad._ I was like: _what are you talking about?_ And as it turned out he had been upset with me for about a week and I didn't even have a clue." The boy shook his head, smiling all the more.

"Sounds like it's hard to communicate, I shouldn't be surprised." Gordon put down his coffee, wishing he had more.

"Yeah, he's crazy like that."

Gordon rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the boy. "I really should apologize to you."

A confused expression was his reply.

The man pushed away his coffee and sighed. "I hit you back there, this morning, and I shouldn't have. You were doing what you had been told to do, you were following orders. I let myself get out of control, and I can't believe what I did. There isn't any excuse for it, but I'd like to tell you I'm sorry."

The boy's faced was flushed at this. He shrugged his shoulders, looking away. "No problem. It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, yeah it is."

Silence.

"I've had worse."

"You trusted me, I hit you – it doesn't get much worse than that. Being hit by a stranger and being hit by me are two _totally_ different things. So don't say: _you've had worse_. Even if you have, it doesn't change the facts."

Robin didn't reply.

"Your boss would probably _strangle_ me if he found out."

"No, he really respects you."

Gordon smiled. "That doesn't help."

The boy smiled back. "But it's true."

* * *

The two got back around two in the morning, and headed straight to bed without even a goodnight to each other. Tim collapsed onto his bed, only bothering to kick off his shoes. He felt good, he and Gordon had talked things out - they had _talked_. The commissioner was starting to mean more and more to the boy, and as he thought about the night it slowly dawned on him. _Bruce_.

The boy felt butterflies take wing in his stomach and he shivered slightly, getting under the covers and hiding his face in the pillow. Guilt surrounded him, coming at all sides, never stopping, always circling. Tim forced in a deep breath, as if that could stop it, but it didn't. He lay in silence, feeling awful, feeling guilty, and feeling like he was worthless.

_Bruce_.

A battle raged in his mind, part of him telling him that his mentor was gone, and the other half telling him that Bruce was very much alive. And that was how the boy fell asleep, wishing he knew the answer, and hoping with everything that his guardian was alive.

* * *

Gordon realized he was awake, and wondering why that was. It was still dark, and with a glance at his clock he discovered it was only 5 in the morning. That was when he heard it. Someone was talking, and they didn't sound happy. The man slipped out of bed, pulling out from under his bed a box, and from that taking a handgun.

He walked, bare feet smacking the floor, listening for the voice. It came again, and the man realized it was from Robin's room. He made his way to the door, pushing it open, and found the boy in a heap on the bed, whimpering unintelligent noises.

"Robin?" The man gave the boy a shake. "Hey."

The boy's eyes fluttered open and he gasped, sitting up. "_NO_!"

Gordon was silent, not sure how to respond to that. He placed the gun on the nightstand by the bed.

Without any warning, the Boy Wonder started shake. It was uncontrolled, totally heart wrenching. "I wanna' go h-home! Take me home!" He pulled his head down, covering it with his arms.

"It was a nightmare." Jim offered. "Try and calm down."

"I want to go home." The boy repeated, starting to practically hyperventilate. "I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home, now. Home – now, home, now, _home, _homehomehome."

"Calm down!" Gordon instructed, sitting beside the boy. "Robin, calm down. You can't go home, you're here – this is your home now. You are home."

The boy covered his ears, shaking his head. Never before had he felt like this. He didn't care how immature he sounded, or how dumb he looked. It didn't matter anymore, not now. All that mattered was him going home, and being with his family. _Right_. _Now_.

"You can't go home." Gordon said again, this time louder. He pulled the boy's hands down, forcing the boy to listen. "What would Batman think if he found you like this? Is this the way you're supposed to act? Is this what he taught you? Is it?"

"Home, right now, I need to go _home_. Now!"

"YOU CAN'T!" Jim got to his feet. He stood before the boy, looking down at him. "Alright? You can't."

Tim sat on his bed, a few tears cutting down his cheeks. The boy looked up at the man, and then jumped up, throwing his arms around him. He held tight, and buried his face into the man's chest, silently crying.

Gordon slowly returned the hug, unsure of what to do. "It'll be ok, _you'll_ _see_, it'll work out."

And as soon as they had hugged, Robin pulled away, scrubbing at his eyes with a passion. "Yeah."

"Thirsty? Milk?" The man made his way to the kitchen, knowing that the boy might be thankful for a moment to regain his stature. In a few minutes the two sat in the kitchen, Robin drinking chocolate milk in silence and Jim boiling water for tea. "Bad dream, I take it?"

Tim nodded, pushing a hand through his damp hair. "Yeah, pretty bad – real too." He took another sip, and then placed the cup back down, looking at it sadly.

"If you don't like chocolate milk you can have something else, I just -."

"It's fine." The boy interrupted. "It's just at home I'd always get this crazy drink, Quick. It was like, my drink when I couldn't sleep. This isn't Quick."

Jim smiled, not sure what else to do.

"I just miss them so much." Tim admitted. "And I feel like they've been taken away, and I can't rescue them, but I should. And then Batman, he's alive, Jim."

"Robin -."

"I know what you think, and I _don't_ want to hear it."

Gordon sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "Fine, that's fine."

"He's alive, and one day he'll come and get me."

All at once it struck Jim, with the boy's words he felt a fear begin to grow. What would happen if the Batman did return? What then? Robin wouldn't be there anymore, the man would be all alone, all over again. The thought worried him, and he quickly assured himself that there was no way the Dark Knight would return. He watched, slightly jealous of the Dark Knight, as the boy drank down the milk.

* * *

The two stayed up a few hours, watching different TV shows, none of which were any good. It was close to seven in the morning when Jim looked over to find Robin, the Boy Wonder, fast asleep. A smile sprouted across the man's lips and he got to his feet, taking down an afghan and covering the boy – then he got ready for a day of work.

_To be continued …_

**Trunksblue**: I do pick on Tim, I do, I do. LOL, but its fun to do – I don't know what I can write if I don't have drama in each chapter. Things might cause me to fall asleep, you know? XD I stole your smile, I hope you don't mind, but it's very useful. Thanks so much for the continuing support! I really, really appreciate it.

**Delia Ra'Nar:** Hi! I thought of you as I wrote the part with Annika's parents calling, lol. How you asked if she'd play a part – well, she is starting to more and more. And it's not a good part, more like trouble. I was pleased to hear you enjoyed reading my nonsense, and hope this chapter is to your liking! Thanks, as always, for reviewing!

**Shadow Avenger: **Hey, hey. I really think you should be updating your ol' Raging Beast Boy fanfiction. I'm not one to talk, seeing how long I take to update, but I'm just saying. I'm getting desperate, checking once a day. I rarely find fanfictions that can keep any of my interest. I can think of probably a handful, I hate reading. So yours is one that can keep my interest, so you should update. See the logic? I do. Thanks for reading and reviewing! Talk to you later.


	11. Chapter Eleven

"Today is going to be the day that they're going to throw me back to you. By now you should have somehow realized what you gotta' do. I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now. Backbeat, the word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out. I'm sure you've heard it all before, but you never really had a doubt. And all the roads that we have to walk are winding, and all the lights that lead us there are blinding. There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't know how. I said maybe you're going to be the one that saves me."

Oasis 'Wonderwall'

_**Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts:**_

By: The BatThing

When Gordon got back from work, late that night, he found a note on the kitchen door – explaining that Robin had gone out for rounds. The man tossed the note into the garbage and made his way towards the phone – ready to check the non-existent messages, but to his surprise, the machine was flashing.

Dropping his things, the commissioner started to listen.

"_Hello, this is Dr. Leslie Thompson; I was calling for … your boy Quinn. It's urgent, and if he could call me back as soon as possible, that would be wonderful." _

Gordon stood, looking at the wall and wondering what could be so urgent.

* * *

Robin stepped back, watching the man run at him. He positioned himself, raising his hand slightly, ready to bring the heel of it into the man's face – as to break the nose. It was then, as the boy jerked upward, that a shriek beeping started to emit from his utility belt. Startled, he missed his chance and found himself flung back, jaw throbbing.

Not willing to waste another moment, the boy in scarlet pushed up, and moved forward. The man started for him, only for the boy to lean far back, grabbing the collar of the man's shirt and pulling him down. With a shove, he brought the criminal to the cement, and gave the head a swift kick.

Jerking the man's hands behind him, he quickly cuffed him, and then pulled out the beeper shrieking in his belt. "What!"

"You have an urgent message from a Dr. Leslie Thompson; apparently she wants to see you as soon as you get a chance." It was Gordon, and the man sounded tired.

"You just got back?"

"Long day."

The boy smirked. "Apparently … hey, if you don't mind, could you make a call to the station, tell them we got someone cuffed and ready for pick-up in Crime Alley, just down Jenson."

"Sure."

"Thanks." The Boy Wonder clicked off and slipped the small beeper back into his belt. He groaned a little as he rubbed the side of his jaw, wishing he hadn't been stupid enough to allow the guy to hit him. But hey, who could complain? He was still walking. The boy made a face as he looked at the man on the ground, feeling the urge to give him another kick … or two.

Without allowing him time to carry out such an act, Robin pulled out his cable and set off – headed towards Leslie's.

* * *

Robin slipped into Leslie's office and found the woman flipping through a book, as if in a hurry. She lifted her head at hearing him and frowned. "You've been out?"

"It's not like that's wrong." The boy answered, wondering why she was acting so short. "What's up?"

"I take it you haven't bothered to listen to the news, or read the paper?"

"Not really."

Leslie sighed, placing a hand on her forehead. "Well, I suppose Gordon can't update you on everything, that's understandable. Why did you take all day to answer my call?"

Robin wasn't enjoying this reaction. "When did you call? I was home almost all day … sleeping."

"Ah." She seemed to soften a little. "I was worried Gordon had you pulling double time, or worried that you were attempting to handle both a … never mind. Here." She handed the boy a pair of jeans, a shirt, and some sandals.

"What are these for?"

"I need to you to change into these, and then I'll explain."

The boy nodded, and headed towards the bathroom. He slipped into the civvies and reemerged, fingers smoothing over his eyes. "Raccoon eyes." He smiled.

The woman nodded, handing him a pair of sunglasses. "If anyone asks … tell them I requested you to wear them, and that they should talk to me."

"Ooo-kay. So what's this about? You have someone you need me to follow?" The boy leaned against the desk, waiting for an answer. He fidgeted as she didn't answer. "You know I don't mind helping out."

"It's not that, I know you're willing to help me, I'm always happy to know that." She sighed, only to smile again at the boy. The smile wasn't one that was meant to be happy, rather – to assure the boy everything was alright. "Have a seat."

He flopped into her chair, slightly worried about what was going to happen.

"I need you as you – as Tim Drake. That's who I want you to be. You see, I had a visitor today, and well …"

"I told you I can't just become Tim Drake right now, I have -."

"This isn't about what you think it's about, just listen, alright?" The woman covered her face, and gave her head a little shake. "I found Bruce."

Dead silence.

"I-I, it was an accident."

"Where is he!" Tim got to his feet. "This is awesome! It's great! I knew he was alive, I knew it! Gordon kept telling me that there was no way and that I shouldn't waste my time wishing that he'd come back, but now he's wrong, and _Bruce is back_!"

"No honey, he's not back." Leslie whispered. "He's sick."

"Sick?"

The woman once more covered her face. "I'm hoping that when he sees you, well, I'm hoping it will all come back – that he'll remember."

Tim couldn't help the desperate look. "R-re_member_?"

"Timmy, I think what happened … I think that he … might have seen Dick die, he saw Alfred dead. I think that he discovered that everyone was dead..."

"I'm not dead."

"You weren't alive either, honey."

Tim looked at the floor. "Why is he sick?"

The doctor sighed. "He's forgotten. It's a type of amnesia. It's not what you might think – actually. I think his whole life, ever since he saw his parents die, Bruce created two people. He created Bruce Wayne, and he created the man who could be Batman. Well, after the bombing, my guess is he continued his work as Batman. I'm not sure how it came to pass, but I think he discovered Dick, Alfred and Barbara were all dead and probably assumed you had gone too."

"He doesn't remember me?"

"He doesn't remember anything attached to being Batman. He's fallen into the world of Bruce Wayne. I'm hoping that when he sees you he'll remember, but Tim – it could be possible that he doesn't."

Tim lowered his head. "He doesn't remember me."

"I've touched the subject again and again, but there isn't anything. He remembers Alfred, he remembers his parent's death, but you, Dick, and Barbara … nothing is there, just blanks."

"I-I didn't forget." Tim managed, clenching his fists. "I knew they were all dead and I didn't _forget_."

Leslie bent down before the boy sitting on the chair. "It's just one of those things that can't be helped, it's something awful, but he can't help it. There is so much inside, he turned away from it, became something that couldn't be hurt. It's sort of like when a child is abused again and again, and they create another world in which they're safe. It's possible, after time, that they can get lost in that thought, become someone stronger."

"That can't be right."

"It's just my theory, Tim, whatever it is … he doesn't remember ever being Batman."

Tim blinked, looking at the ceiling. "Or me and the others."

The woman nodded slowly, the look in her eyes seemed tired. "Are you ready? I know it's soon, but …"

"Who found him?" The boy shook his head, feeling slightly upset. "Why did it take so long for him to come back, I checked those files, he was listed as a _missing_ _person_!"

"He was missing, it hasn't been that long, Tim, just a few weeks since the bombing. How many now? Four?" Leslie nodded, as if to confirm her estimate. "I told you, I think he was operating as Batman for at least a week before he forgot everything. After he forgot, well, a lot could have happened. I'm his doctor, so he was brought to me straight away, after he was discovered. It's been … on the news."

The boy took in a deep breath, trying to make sense. "It's just … it doesn't make much sense."

"He doesn't remember, otherwise I'd ask him what's going on."

"I know … what if he doesn't remember me, but still insists that I stay with him. What then?" A look of panic flashed across Tim's face as he realized what it meant. "Jim can put two and two together, and then the secret will be ruined. I'll be staying with Bruce _Wayne_. Leslie, I'm not cut out to be _Bruce_ _Wayne's_ kid, I'm not that."

The woman held up her hand, stopping the rant. "One step at a time, Tim. You can't stay missing forever."

"Why not? Jim got me a tutor, I can learn, I can live my life out as Robin. It's possible, and when the time comes, well, Bruce will remember soon."

"There is no guarantee of that."

"Yeah, well, there was not guarantee he'd come back either, but he did." Tim spat the words, upset – this was unfair, so unfair. "You all insisted he was dead, but here he is, _alive_. I'm putting my money on him remembering, ok?"

Silence.

"It's all I can do."

The older woman shook her head. "Enough is enough. I've never liked Bruce's secret, his mission, and I've disliked the fact that he used three children to help him. I've stood for a lot, Tim. I didn't fuss when Jim took you in. I didn't say _anything_. I'm telling you, though, now, as Bruce's close friend, you're going to forget about that _secret_. You're going to go in there and you're going to live your life like a _normal_ _child_ _should_!"

"You can't force that on me."

"I am forcing it on you." Leslie snapped. "If you don't go in there, so help me, I'll tell Jim everything. And you know what he'll do? He'll make you see Bruce; he'll make you go _home_."

A drawn out pause followed the woman's threat, and the boy lifted his head, looking angrily at the woman. "Bruce made a big mistake when he told you he was Batman."

The doctor sighed. "You're right, he did. I care too much."

The boy sneered as he got to his feet. "So, take me to see Bruce."

_To be continued…_

**IAmWalrus**Thanks so much for your awesome review, I needed it to get me thinking again, thank you so much. I didn't know what to do with the next chapter till I read what you wrote, and thought: 'He's right, let's move to the next part.' I'm assuming you're a guy, if you're a girl, lol, I'm sorry.

**Trunksblue**: LOL, I use your smile so much now, I need to back off it, people might get all annoyed and classify me or something insane, lol. Anyhow, thanks for the review! Yea! XD

**CatgirlII**: Glad you like the concept; hopefully this chapter is a little more appealing to you? XD

**Delia Ra'Nar:** Yes, lol, it was my intent to link the diner with the one in the cartoon series! Yea for you noticing, lol. Thanks for such an awesome review! It was fun to read, reviews always are, but long ones make my day! XD Yeah, as you can see in this chappie, Bruce Wayne is found, though it's just more angst for everyone's favorite masked side-kick! Thanks for the review, again!


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Authors Note:** Sorry this took so long. Fanfiction wasn't letting me upload this for a few days, then I forgot about it and just remembered today. I was like: Oh yeah, I wrote another chapter last month. Hope you enjoy it ... it's really like ... kinda' boring. XD

"I wake from my sleep and face the day, but I have to hope to reach you some day. I cannot go on, take other steps, because my way's not easy to go. No, even though I do really want to see you I have to take my time. Spend some days alone - being by myself - will be all I do. Thinking of you made me cry, so my eyes they were filled with tears. And all I've got is my will to be with you again. Thinking of you made me cry, so many times. All I have my will to be with you some day."

- InuYasha 'My Will' -

_**Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts**_

By: The BatThing

Tim pushed the door open, slowly – ever so slowing. He knew what waited inside, or rather who. And he knew that the moment he saw the person waiting for him, he knew that it would signify that he was really just as lost as ever. He didn not even have the hope, now, that Bruce and he would be reunited and go back to anything _close_ to _normal_. The boy paused, took a deep breath, and then forced himself to take that step into the room and raise his eyes.

_Bruce_.

The man was standing, gazing at a portrait hanging in the room, he didn not even notice that the boy behind him.

Considering the options Tim cleared his throat, inwardly flinching as he watched the man he considered a father turn to face him. It were as if nothing had happened, everything were normal. The boy had to force himself not to run at the man, expressing how much he had been scared, _how so very scared_. "Hi." Tim managed.

Bruce was looking at him, cool blue eyes studying the small figure before him. "Hi." Then a smile, a very unusual smile – almost confused. "So you're Timothy."

"That'd be me." Tim managed, his voice shook slightly and he could feel himself starting to go into a fit of shivers. He took another deep breath, closing his eyes and forcing on a smile. This wasn't the time to panic, not now. The boy rephrased his words lamely. "That's me."

"Yes." An awkward pause followed as Bruce rubbed a hand against his jaw – a frown starting. He looked flustered, and for good reason. He had just been told that he had an adopted child that he had no idea about. Not just one, _two_. The fact of the matter was that he hadn't believed it at first, not till he was shown newspaper clippings, certificates of adoptions, pictures, and Leslie assured him again and again. "They said that you were missing?"

"I was, I – er – I didn't want to be found. I, um, I knew you'd come back." He sighed, thinking through his lie as he spoke. "People kept telling me that you'd _died_ and that I shouldn't think stuff like you'd come back, but I couldn't stop myself. You know? And the last thing I wanted was for them to put me under someone's care that I didn't know. So I figured I lived on the streets before, I could do it again. Besides, I _knew_ you weren't dead. I knew you'd come _back_." The last part seemed a bit hopeful, but Tim couldn't help it. Something in him was waiting for his words to awake his mentor.

"This must be a disappointment for you, it has to be hard." Bruce whispered. "My not remembering anything about you."

It was as if the room had suddenly dropped twenty degrees in temperature. Tim couldn't stop himself from shivering, his jaw buckling. He lowered his head, closing his eyes, and his throat burning. The tears being held back warned a breaking point.

Bruce moved towards the boy. His words were strange. "I'm so sorry, Tim. I wish I remembered you."

Tim nodded, shrugging like it didn't matter when really … it mattered _so_ much. "S'ok."

The man brought the boy to him, taking the teenager into a hug. "It's _not_ ok; you're probably hurting a lot from this."

The boy went stiff, he could smell Bruce, smell the old familiar smell of the man that he had put all his hope on. Clenching his jaw tightly, he tried to 'tough it out'. But he didn't want to be tough anymore; he didn't want to go back to blindly following a dream. It hurt too much to discover that the dream wouldn't come true. Slowly the boy returned the hug, smaller arms going around the man. "_You were supposed to r-remember me_."

And the tears came.

* * *

Gordon checked the clock once more, and then made his way over to the phone. "That boy better have a good reason why he's out _this_ late." It was 4:30 in the morning, hardly the time that he'd allow the boy wonder to roam around the city, even for the Boy Wonder. The boy wasn't answering to any of his calls – something was up.

Picking up the phone he dialed Leslie's number, figuring she might have possibly heard from him. "Hello? I would like to speak to a Miss. Thompson."

"Commissioner Gordon?" The voice smoothed out. "This is she; you're probably calling about Quinn, right?"

"Yes. Is he there?"

Leslie sighed, pausing a moment before answering the question. "The fault is mine, you see, Quinn and I go pretty far back – I knew his father."

Silence.

"I'm sorry, yes, he is here, and we've been … talking and discussing a few things."

Gordon didn't want to sound snappy or pushy, but Robin could have at least had the decency to call him about staying with the woman. "Do you know what time he's planning to come home? I've been up worrying about it for hours. Perhaps he's there so I could talk with him for a moment?"

"Um, I'm afraid he's asleep." The woman hated lying for the secret, and was amazed how easily she was able to do so. "It's my fault; I should have had him call you. It's just that we talked so late and I told him he could stay the night if needed. I guess he might have figured you'd be asleep it was so late."

"Well, tell him I'll stop by and pick him up in the morning then. Are you at the clinic?"

Leslie grimaced. "Um, actually I could drop him off at the house in the morning, if you'd like. I'm at my house." Lies. "And it'd be easier. I'll have him there before you go to work, if you'd like."

The man smiled. "That'd be fine. If he could get here around 7:30, if it's not much trouble."

"None at all. And thank you commissioner, for taking such good care of him."

"It's a pleasure."

Leslie hung up the phone and covered her eyes. How perfectly awful this situation was. Gordon loved Tim, he _needed_ him. It was easy to see why the man would come attached to a boy who was struggling in the same manner – Robin had probably healed Gordon. What now? Bruce was back, and Bruce would want the boy.

Leaning back in her chair, the woman breathed - how _perfectly_ awful.

* * *

They had told Bruce, the next morning, that Tim had to go back and collect his things, think things over – and the man said he understood. So they set off, the only two people left in Gotham who knew about the Batman's secret.

"What are you planning to do?" Leslie questioned. "You know if you don't like with Bruce people will start to wonder. He can't just ignore the fact that you're his ward, he wants you back. And even if he _did _agree to let you go back to 'life on the streets' he'd still have to keep up his reputation and hire a search party. Sooner or later you'll be discovered and what then?"

"I figure I can have two lives."

"Excuse me?"

Robin turned, looking at Leslie with a small smile. "What can I do Leslie? I thought about it last night, and came up with a solution … kind of."

Leslie frowned. "That doesn't sound promising."

"Well, then listen. I'll need your help to make it work though, ok? I figure Bruce will want me to go to school, so during my 'school time' I'll head over to the station as Robin and have Harvey tutor me. Then, once school is out, I'll tell Gordon that I'm helping you out – after all, you told him you know the secret, he'd understand. Then while I'm 'helping you out' I can go to the manor and stick around till night. At which time I'll rotate. One night I'll work as Robin and the next I'll sleep at Gordon's." The boy took a deep breath, and then smiled proudly. "You can't say that's a pretty good plan."

"You're right, I can't." The woman said. She didn't want to be such a rain cloud, but it couldn't be helped. "Why can't you just tell Gordon that you found your father?"

"If I tell him that all he has to do is put two and two together. That's why. He's not an idiot, he knows that Batman has to have money – and Bruce just came back from the dead. He'll put two and two together when I say that Batman's back." There was a pause. "Besides, he _needs_ me, Les."

The woman shook her head, becoming unhappy as they approached the Gordon's residence. "All it takes is Bruce walking in on you at night and discovered you're not there, or what if he calls the school? What then? How are you going to make him think you're actually attending a school?"

The boy shrugged. "I can hack; Barbara taught me how to hack. I'll just delete any records they have of me being there."

"It's your old school. I doubt they'd not notice."

"Then they'll call and ask where I am."

"And they'll talk to Bruce?"

"No, they'll talk to me. I'll change the contact numbers at the school, make it my cell phone number, and tell them that I don't go there – and ask if I'm in the files. They'll of course say no, and I'll say I'm being home schooled. They'll buy it." He stifled a yawn. "Speaking of which, I need a cell phone. It's on my list of things to do."

Leslie chewed her lower lip. "And if Bruce discovers your missing one night?"

Tim rolled down the window only to roll it back up. He turned to face the woman again and gave another smile. "Then I tell him I'm out and about. I'm a teenager, it's what I do. Besides, I doubt he'll check on me while I sleep."

"What are you going to tell Gordon in the morning, when you're not at his house?" The woman turned to Tim with a questioning expression. "School won't start till at least 8, what then?"

"I'll tell Jim I want to come in later, seeing how I'm helping you out a lot. He'll let me come in later, and it's not like he checks to make sure I'm in bed each time he wakes up. He respects my privacy."

"You can't live like this, Tim." Leslie told him. "Sooner or later you'll burn out or someone will catch onto your lies. You can't live that kind of lie and not get into trouble."

The boy nodded his agreement. "I know that, but I also know soon enough Bruce will remember. In which case, he'll think of something and understand that I have to hang with Jim. And soon enough I can tell Jim that Batman is back and he won't connect it with Bruce."

The doctor pulled into the parking lot where Gordon and Tim lived. "'Soon enough' might be a year or more, Tim. You can't do that for a year."

"I have to."

Leslie fumed. "This _stupid_, _idiotic_ secret! It's not worth it, Tim, it's not worth it. You could tell Gordon, it's not like he'd go public with the situation. He cares about you and about the secret, he'd understand."

"Sure he would, but then what good was any of this?" The boy opened the car door, stepping out. "The secret is everything to me, Leslie. You saw Bruce, what he's like without the secret. I _don't_ want to live that life. I don't want to become a normal kid, I've _been_ normal, and let me tell you – after being Robin I don't think I'd live being that again."

The woman watched as the door slammed and sighed. She bit back the urge to yell at the Boy Wonder walked towards the entrance of the building.

Life for Robin, the Boy Wonder, was about to become even more complicated.

* * *

"Hey!" Tim called out as he closed the door behind him, smelling the scent of eggs. He couldn't help but frown. He was home, and that was the problem. He made his way into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as Gordon turned to glance his way. "Sorry I didn't call last night."

The commissioner made a face that seemed to stress disappointment. He quirked an eyebrow and gave his head a little tilt. "Well, you only kept me in wonder for a _few _hours."

Robin blinked at the comment then sighed. "Something came up, and I forgot."

"Yes. I know."

"Ok, ok, it's my own stupid fault; I won't do it again – yadda, yadda." He gave a small smile as he made his way to the refrigerator. "Leslie said she told you about her knowing Batman."

"She did." Gordon removed the eggs from the oven top and scoped them onto a plate, glancing at the boy watching. "You look like you didn't eat last night – or sleep. Leslie said that you two had to talk?"

"Um, yeah, about that, well – Les needs some help at the clinic, and I volunteered my time. It won't be much, just every afternoon for a few hours. You know? I figure I can make it work." He pulled out the juice and unscrewed the top, peering into the contents. "Does this have pulp?"

Jim placed his hands on his hips. "Yes, it does have pulp – which is fine. Now back to this volunteering stuff. What times are we talking?"

Putting the juice back in the 'fridge, the boy shrugged. "Like, um, 3 to 9 or something? _What_? It's not like it's anything that bad, besides, if I didn't help out at the clinic I'd probably hang out at the station and do stuff there. She really could use my help, you know."

"No, I don't know. What I do know is that you need to consider schooling in all of this – not to mention your Robin activity."

"I did, geesh Jim, I'm not a _dolt_. I figure I can do tutoring still, Bullock only teaches me for a few hours, right? So I even have some time in between. And Robin, well, you say only every other night, and that can stay the same. It's not like this will change anything. I just won't be home as much, is all." Suddenly the boy felt like his parents were divorced, weekends with Jim and weekday with Bruce. Tim hid a smile. If other kids could do it, well, so could he.

"I suppose its fine, so long as you promise me something." The man put a plate of eggs before the boy.

"Yeah?"

Jim eyed the boy with a look of distrust – almost. "You call me if those plans change. If something like last night happens again, well, volunteer work will end till further notice. Got that?"

All at once Tim felt himself coil back inside from the commissioner. He didn't like being given orders like that, not from Jim. Not now, and probably not ever. It was as if Jim were more of an Uncle figure, a relative – and the boy had to hold back the urge to fight what the man said. He took a big bite of his eggs and smiled. "Sure."

"What'd you do with the juice?"

"I told you, I don't _like_ pulp."

* * *

"I hear you're takin' on extra work." Bullock sneered as he closed the book with a snap. He looked a Robin with a doubtful glance and then shrugged his shoulders – acting indifferent. "Think yer' cut out for that."

"You aren't the first to underestimate me, Bullock. I seem to get a lot of 'are you sure' questions lately." Tim answered as he slipped his books into his backpack with a frown.

The large man leaned back in his chair, happy the tutoring lesson was over. While the boy was bright he didn't take quickly to any of the school subjects. It was hard to keep the teenager's attention on the work. "Maybe 'dat's because people realize you're not a superhuman. Last I checked Batman and his partners were still human."

"Who says that?"

Bullock didn't look amused.

Robin got to his feet, heaving the back pack up and slipping it on with a half smile. "Have you seen Superman lately? He totally looks human, what's to say I'm not a superdude holding back my powers? Huh?"

"You bruise and break, 'dats what says."

"Hmm."

The day at the station passed by with ease, and Robin even had time to enjoy going out with Justin to get some food that they could bring back for the other cops working. The two talked with ease, finding each other's company pleasant, and at times Tim couldn't help but feel a dull pain as he was constantly reminded of Dick. It was right before Robin was preparing to head towards Leslie's that Gordon stopped him.

"Leslie called."

"Uh, she did?" Tim felt butterflies rise up. He hoped that Leslie hadn't turned him in, said that the boy was lying – that he was tricking Gordon yet again for the secret. The boy cringed as he waited.

Gordon nodded. "Said she'd pick you up, and not to start out till she comes."

_Phew_. "Oh, ok. Thanks, I'll probably see you tonight, or something."

"Yep."

_To be continued…_


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Authors Note:** Something about this fanfiction is really making me write like a demon. Well, not like a _speed_ demon, but some type of demon. Like, it's in my mind all the time. I don't know when this will end, and if anyone will stick with it – but it's being written and thought about more than any other fanfiction. XD We're closing in on the end … in like, five more chapters? I dunno, I can't assume.

"There is a chance to bridge the line between to points ruptured in time."

Carbon Leaf – _Torn to Tattered_

_**Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts**_

By: The BatThing

Tim entered Wayne Manor practically empty handed. He made sure to bring his backpack, which he had filled with some clothes, money, and food – just so it looked like his lie was real. He even went as far as to make sure the backpack looked dirty.

"I'll bet you know the house probably better than me now." Bruce said as he closed the door behind the boy.

"No, Alfred didn't … um." Tim lowered his head. "He liked to keep things the same, you know that."

"I'm not sure I know anything." The man admitted as he glanced around, he looked lost, sad – and slightly exhausted. When he did speak again his voice seemed to waver. "Alfred's death – I don't know how you managed loosing him and Dick and, uh, me."

The teenager looked up at the billionaire and offered a sad smile. "I had help."

Bruce didn't seem to hear anything. "I'm almost afraid to remember anything else, knowing that it will be like this all over. That sounds selfish, and I don't mean it. I want to remember."

Tim didn't say anything, he just moved towards the stairs. "I'm going to my room."

"Alright – I need to make a few calls, try and get someone out here to give us a hand with the house. I doubt we'd be able to work Alfred's magic by ourselves."

Watching him go, Tim released a sigh. He had forgotten the fact that Bruce would hire another person to do the chores around the house. That couldn't be good. With a frown the boy started to climb the stairs, enjoying the fact that he was home – though at the same time – knowing he really wasn't. The building meant the world to him, things were put back in place by people Bruce had hired to clean up – things looked more normal, but still out of sorts. It was missing various items … and people.

Pushing the door to his room open, Tim tossed his backpack to the floor and sprinted to his bed, flinging himself on it and grabbing a pillow close. He rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling. "I'm back."

There was no answer, the house didn't seem to notice, but Tim couldn't help but imagine that somehow – it _did_. He closed his eyes, listening to familiar noises, smelling that fading familiar smell, and feeling the best he had in a while.

"Tim?"

"What?"

The door to the room opened. "Oh, so this is your room."

It was an odd comment, especially looking at Bruce – the man who would have never said anything like that before. Tim couldn't help but crack a smile. "Yeah, this is my room."

"It's nice."

Once again, the comment was totally not something Bruce would say. "Thank you." The boy gave a shake of his head as he grinned.

"I was wondering. Do you want anything special to eat tonight? I can't cook, but I thought I might order out. I don't know what you would like."

"Anything's fine, just don't get anything totally bizarre."

Bruce replied with a nod and then took another glance around the room. "Can I ask you something, Tim?"

The boy propped himself up with his elbows and slowly nodded. "I guess so."

"What was I before? I remember who I was, but what I remember …" The man shrugged his shoulders and took another look around the room. He sighed and moved towards the large window on the opposite end of the room. "And what about you, what about Dick?"

Tim didn't reply to the question for a long time, he just looked at Bruce. How could he explain anything to the man without including the life of Batman? After all, that was the reason the man had adopted Tim in the first place. "You were different. You were – I dunno' – a little more on edge? A little gruffer I suppose. I dunno'. You took care of business, you weren't mean – you were just … you."

"Did we get along?"

"Sure." Tim made a face. "You'll remember soon enough."

"And you?"

"Huh?"

"How did we … how did I, you know." Bruce looked uncomfortable. "I read the articles, but they didn't tell me as much as you might think they would. I was just wondering about _you_. I read things, like you came from Crime Alley, and well."

Tim laughed. "That's _old_ stuff. I just came from the slums of Gotham, my dad died and you took me in. That's really all there is to it, I guess you felt sorry for me, sometimes I think that it was more of the fact that you missed Dick."

Bruce strained to remember.

"Dick was cool, everyone loves Dick." The boy said, looking a little sad. "He was _awesome_. I always was jealous of him. I guess I still am in some ways – _good ways_. You always thought the world of him too; he was good at everything he did. Here!" Tim jumped to the floor and dug into his tattered backpack. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to Bruce.

The man opened it and pulled out a picture.

"You can have it if you want." Tim told him. "I actually stole it from you in the first place, so I'd say it's fair. It's you and Dick, I think Alfred took it around Christmas or something – well, I know he did, seeing the tree and all."

Bruce smiled. "Thank you." He put the picture back in the envelope and pulled out another picture. "Who is this?"

"Oh, that's mine." Tim snatched the picture back from his mentor and shoved the picture into his back pocket. "It's just my parents."

"You look like them."

"Yeah, I suppose."

"How did they die?" Bruce's voice was soft.

Tim gave a chuckle and for some reason thought of Barbara. _"Sorry you saw that."_ She had said when he discovered the identity of the Batman. "My mom left my dad and me when I was nine, she found another guy, and you know – that sort of thing happens all the time. Dad didn't like it at all, and his life was screwed up after that. He started working for different people, none of them good. I guess that's how he got into business with Two Face. He crossed Two Face, made the guy mad, and so Two Face killed him."

The man at the window lowered his head. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's alright. I mean, I miss him and all, but not as much as you'd think. He left when mom did, if you know what I mean."

"You're mother is still alive?"

"No, she died too, the dude she ran off with." Tim blinked. "He turned out to be the abusive type."

"I'm sorry."

"It's ok."

* * *

Gordon watched as Tim made his way through the front door. "How was working at Dr. Thompson's, did you get much accomplished on your first day?" 

Tim nodded as he slid into a chair at the table. "We mostly talked, you know. She showed me around, told me what I'd be doing."

"I suppose you're hungry?" Gordon opened the refrigerator and pulled out a Tupperware. "Grilled cheese, I felt lazy tonight."

The boy shrugged his shoulder and pulled out the sandwich. "M'tired. And you know, you don't have to wait up for me each night, it's not like I'm going to sneak inside and tear up your kitchen while you sleep."

The man gave a humored look. "I just got off work about an hour ago, things have been going crazy, the Gauss murder – well, let's just say we aren't getting anywhere with it. Either the murder decided to take a break or he's dead. No matter what the cause of his break, we still need to find him."

"We will, I'll ask around, or something." Robin took a big bite and smiled. "I like this kind of food."

"What?"

_Oops_. Tim hadn't meant to say that, it just came out. Bruce couldn't cook, so the man would order out, and Alfred didn't really made things like grilled cheese or hotdogs. "I, uh, you know – easy food. Hotdogs, Macaroni and Cheese, pizza, hamburgers, spaghetti O's."

"Did you parents not serve '_easy_ _food'_ at home?" Jim was smiling, as if he knew the boy was hiding something.

"Just 'cause I say I like it doesn't mean I don't ever eat it. It just means it's my favorite food." As if to prove his point, the boy took a huge bite.

"Well, I'm glad you like it."

* * *

A week came and went, and Tim was starting to feel the affects of living two different lives. It wasn't that he didn't get enough sleep, he did. He got to sleep a full eight hours every other night, and then those nights when he was out patrolling he made sure to get at least four to five hours. And it wasn't like he couldn't nap. It was just the mere fact that he was living a lie, and it was becoming _exhausting_. He had taken care of his school troubles, deleting his file from the computers and even contacting his two old friends, Li and Ron, to tell them he was going to be tutored. He even talked Ron into lying for him if Bruce called. Friends were great at times, the boy decided. Bruce had even given him a car, since the man couldn't take him to and from school. The vehicle was of great use. 

It wasn't until Thursday, or the second week, that Tim ran into some real trouble. He was sneaking back into his bedroom window at Wayne Manor when Bruce walked in, looking gloomy.

The boy didn't say anything, knowing he'd been caught, and closed the window slowly – making sure to latch the lock. "Hi, Bruce."

"Were you out for a midnight stroll?"

"Something like that, yeah." Tim wasn't sure what to expect. He rocked on his heels and glanced at his digital clock, which read 5:30. "You're up early today."

"Or rather I'm up late."

"Y-you didn't _sleep_?" Tim couldn't hold back his surprise. "It's not like you need to worry, I was just … hanging out with some friends."

Bruce didn't look convinced, but at the same time, he himself looked slightly worried. After all, he didn't know how to handle something like a teenager sneaking out at night; this would be his first time. "Hanging out with some friends on a _school_ night, staying out all hours, and not telling me about it? I hardly think you were working on a science project."

The boy frowned.

"I was about ready to phone the police, report you as _missing_." Bruce was starting to look a little flustered. "And how would that go over? I'd look completely incapable of raising a teenager. Just a week after I get back I've already _lost_ you."

"I'm sorry."

The man looked confused. "You act like an adult, it's what I first noticed about you – you act _twice_ as old as your age. So this confuses me, what were you doing skipping out?"

Tim frowned. "I was just visiting with some old friends, alright? I left a lot unsaid with some friends. Not to mention there are times when I just can't sleep, I need to clear my head, talk to some people."

"You could have told me."

"I thought you'd be sleeping, and things have changed – I'd be weird to just wake you up and tell you that I can't _sleep_."

"Well, no matter what the troubles might be – no more sneaking out, alright? I don't like discovering you've gone missing. You can tell me if something's bothering you, and if you need to talk a walk around the grounds, that's fine, but leave a note and don't be gone for more than an hour." Bruce sighed as Tim visibly glared.

For a moment the boy looked ready to snap back something immature, but the look came and went. "I understand, sorry to make you worry like that."

The mad nodded. "Thank you for apologizing. There is something else though, I think I found a new butler, and wanted to tell you he'd be here this afternoon. So when you get home from school, you know, he'll be here."

"…What's his name?"

"Mr. Saul Lane, he instructed us to just call him Saul."

"British?"

"No, American."

"Oh, ok." Tim looked at his unmade bed and then at Bruce. "I think I'm going to sleep, if that's alright, at least for an hour."

The man moved back towards the door and nodded. "Well, talk to you when I get home from work, Timothy."

"Right."

* * *

Saul Lane wasn't anything like Alfred. Tim entered the house to find the butler waiting for him. "H-hi, I guess you're Mr. Lane? Well, uh, I'm Tim." 

"It is a pleasure, Master Drake. May I take your things?" Saul started from Tim's backpack without a moment's hesitation, as if waiting to prove himself worthy of working at Wayne Manor.

Tim sidestepped the man and shook his head. "Thanks, uh, but I'll just take it to my room. I gotta' lot of homework and stuff."

"Can I get you anything then? Something to drink – eat?"

"Oh, oh – nah, I'll be fine."

"Very well, young sir." The man then gave a weak smile. "If there is anything I can do to be of service, do not hesitate to ask."

The boy nodded. "Sure, thanks Mr. Lane, I guess I'll talk to you later?"

The butler gave a slight bow. "Please, call me Saul."

"Ok."

_To be continued …_


	14. Chapter Fourteen

"Yellow moon, right now that moon is telling you to open up your eyes. Young man, you're still dreaming, and that's just fine. So dream on, dream on – turn around, you're not alone. Tell me everything you see. Every day and every night, until you reach the light, I will send you my all my love. Every day, every night, until you reach the light, I will send you all my love."

**Akeboshi** _Yellow Moon_

_**Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts**_

By: The BatThing

Tim awoke with a start, and he almost feel back to sleep, but then it came again, somebody was screaming, and they were frantic. The boy jerked up and shoved back the covers, practically flying out of his room. He managed to slip his sunglasses on and pull on a red windbreaker that Montoya had just found for him. The boy jerked the door open and rand down the flight of stairs and to the back door. He could smell the smoke, he could see the smoke circling in the dark night, and the screaming went on.

People were starting to gather now, staring at the building just a few feet away that was inflames. It was clear there was no way anybody was coming out of there alive. Tim touched his glasses for a moment then made a mad dash towards the building. Yeah, Gordon would probably kill him for this, given the chance that he'd come out _alive_.

A man suddenly stepped in front of him. "Hold it there, son, it's no use. You're no good to anybody dead – there is no way that the people inside are alive. This is no time to go play hero."

Suddenly the screaming started up again and this time it was more desperate. Tim shoved past the man and glanced around to find the screaming person. He didn't know much, but he could try to be of help. It dawned on him, before he even saw who was making the noise, who it was. Annika.

She was clutching a cat, her eyes' closed and tears pouring down her face – making a trail through the ash that layered her. For a moment Tim felt a bit too frightened to approach, he hadn't expected it to be _her_. He barely knew the girl, but seeing her like this caused a sort of panic. It was her house on fire, her family inside. He took a deep breath and then moved forward once more, only to be grabbed and jerked back by his arm.

"Let go, bastard! There are people inside -." Tim turned to take a punch at the man holding him back but quickly stopped, seeing Gordon's worried expression. "Jim! I gotta' go and –."

"You aren't going in there." The commissioner snapped. "Look at the building and think again, everyone inside is _dead_. Don't be an idiot."

"But it's her family!" The boy attempted to pull away again, feeling slightly desperate. "I have to do _something_. I can't let this happen to her!"

"It already did." Jim hissed.

The boy pulled and pushed. He glanced back at the building and then at Annika. She was so little, and she had been so _happy_. Tim knew what it was like to lose family. it had _changed_ him, and almost _killed_ him. He couldn't allow something like that to happen to Annika, not the girl who had showed him kindness, shared a meaningless piece of chalk and a few warm smiles. She hadn't done much for him, true, but she had been there. She meant nothing to him, nothing more than just a face he recognized.

But she didn't deserve this, she couldn't get _through_ this. Tim shook his head, looking at Jim, eyes pleading. "You can't -."

"They're dead." Jim snapped, not angry, but worried that the boy would break free and attempt to run into the building. "Right now what you need to do is try and think what can be done for _her_. She knows you, right? Maybe you should go be with her!"

No he couldn't. Robin stopped fighting the man and shook his head. "Jim, if you don't let me go I'll -."

BAM! A shriek and then everybody was rushing back. Annika just screamed louder and Tim felt his arm released as Jim went to the girl, pulling her away from the collapsing building. The commissioner lifted up the screaming girl and she didn't fight it. Tim watching in silence as she was carried slowly away from the fallen building, her screams just as loud. Sirens wailed overhead.

* * *

"You smell like smoke." 

Tim lifted his heavy head and looked at Bruce. He cleared his throat and slowly took a bite of his toast. "Candles do that."

"Oh please." And with that the man got to his feet and left the room a very unhappy person. His breakfast untouched, the newspaper unfolded, and Saul doing his best to look proper.

The boy felt bad, and his toast suddenly tasted so much worse. If the morning could get worse, well, Tim might not make it. He glanced up at the silent butler and tried to smile, but he only got a nod in return. Saul was no Alfred, and Bruce was no Bruce. The boy sighed and lifted his fork, stabbing his toast and thinking about Annika and Jim. Gordon had not been pleased when Tim had left to go to 'help Leslie', but at least Annika was alright. She had been checked into the hospital, and Gordon was searching for any of her possible relatives.

"If you are not hungry for toast then perhaps I could get you something else?"

Tim snapped his head up and then looked down at his toast – which was unmistakably dead. The boy had ripped it to bits, and stabbed it again and again. He almost felt bad for his breakfast. Shaking his head he got to his feet. "Not hungry I guess."

Saul gave a polite nod and started to clear Bruce's and Tim's wasted breakfast. The boy could hear Alfred saying something about starving children, but Saul offered no such punishment. He just let the matter slide. Tim didn't hate Saul, but there was no doubt in his mind that he would ever learn to enjoy the man.

"Thanks though." And Tim hurried out of the room, only to stop and look abashed as Bruce was glaring at him in the sitting room. "Hi."

"Hello." The man said with a sigh, flipping through the pages of a book. He snapped the reading material closed and then got to his feet. "You're going to be late for school if you don't hurry."

"Yeah, I know, I was just –." Tim sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry if I've made you upset."

Bruce gave a sarcastic chuckle and plopped right back down on the couch. "You're sorry for making me upset? Tim, if you were sorry maybe you'd start being honest and stop making up these _idiotic_ excuses. I know you're still gallivanting around at night, and I've had my fill. You don't listen to what I say. You treat me like … like you're just trying to please me. As if I'm in the way of something, and you're really the one in charge."

The boy shifted his weight, looking at the carpet and wondering why he didn't feel _that_ bad. He tried his best to look guilty, but it was just an act, just like everything else he did here. An act.

"I know my words are wasted, they usually are, so let's try something else." Bruce took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I'm new to this, sort of, and I didn't want to be a 'bad guy'. I was hoping you and I could get along, I was hoping that this would be resolved without any trouble."

Uh-oh. Tim felt butterflies awake and he jerked his head up, eyes large. Bruce had better not try anything _smart_.

"Your car – I want the keys." Bruce seemed nervous, as if Tim might attack him. "And as for your freedom at the Manor, well, that's been changed. No more time to go see your friends, or visits to Leslie. Until you can start being honest with me then maybe this is best."

The boy almost wanted to laugh. Bruce was such a dork if he thought this would affect him. He nodded, trying to look upset, wondering how well it was working. So what if he couldn't use the car? He wasn't 16 yet – and so what if he couldn't see his friends? He never did anyhow. Maybe he should complain or something. The boy thought about what to say and Bruce seemed to be waiting for something.

His mentor looked scared, which made everything a little more humorous. Bruce wanted to be friends with Tim. Bruce was worried Tim might get upset. Things were so odd. If Bruce were in his right state Tim would probably be _dead_. He looked at the man before him and saw how nervous he looked. And the boy couldn't help himself. He laughed.

It wasn't a big laugh, more of a smile and a cough, but it was a laugh.

Bruce took his a deep breath, closed his eyes and sighed. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." There was a frown. The boy felt he should give one in such a situation. It was clear, though, that there was no fooling the billionaire before him. "You're just not you, and sometimes, it's kinda' funny."

"What?"

"You know, I keep thinking of how you use to act – and it's funny because you're so different. It's like, like you don't know what to do with me."

"_I_ _don't know what to do with you!_" Bruce steamed as he tossed his arms in the air.

The boy watched for a moment and wondered how hard it was for Bruce to live the life he was living right now. It couldn't be fun, but it couldn't be _that_ bad either. Right? There were bigger problems than worrying about how stressed out his mentor was.

The two looked at each other and Bruce shook his head a few times. "You aren't upset with me for grounding you?"

"Well, no, I guess not."

"You aren't angry that I'm so different?"

Tim made a face. "You can't help that, besides, it's only temporary. Soon enough you'll be back to your old self, and then you can kill me."

Bruce looked away. "Kill you? I must be a monster." He sounded happy as he spoke and then glanced again at Tim. "What makes you so sure? What makes you think that I'll get my memory back? For all you know I could be like this for the rest of my life, there is no saying that I'll go back to the way I use to be, so how can you think like that?"

"Well, because you came back from the dead." His answer was dumb, but totally true. "People told me you were dead, Bruce, and you weren't. Things don't always work out the way I want them to, but … things work out. You might not think that you'll remember, and maybe you won't. But for me, I say you'll remember, you have to, and I think you know you have to. It won't be long before you understand that."

"I have to remember?" Bruce frowned. "I don't know about having to remember. Life will go on without me remembering what I use to be life."

"No." Tim laughed, and he was happy to do so, because he realized how sure he was that his mentor's memory would return. Bruce was the Batman, and Batman fought – no doubt, deep inside Bruce, Batman was trying to make things right. "You'll remember, something inside you is going to kick in – and you'll remember."

"Until then I suppose you'll keep lying to me?" Bruce frowned.

"I never said that."

"But it's true."

Tim was silent.

"You're still grounded."

"That's fair."

* * *

It was an awful day, but Tim felt good. The talk with Bruce had lifted his spirits slightly. The weather was damp, rainy, and Annika was going to need a lot of help. But the boy smiled despite himself. How _lucky_ he felt. Bruce was going to remember. Bruce was going to _remember_! He was sure of it, sure that things would turn out alright. 

"There ya' are." Bullock was standing in the rain as Tim jogged up the stairs to the Police Station. "Yer' late, I hope ya' know. Commissh' ain't gonna' be happy."

"He'll live, I think." Tim smiled at the detective. "What are you doing out here? Reflecting on life? Thinking about the special girl in your life? Or maybe you were _worried_ about me?"

"Yer' in a good mood." Bullock pulled his coat tighter. "And yer' wrong about all three. I'm takin' ya' to the hospital."

Tim stopped smiling. "How is she?"

"How would anyone be after somethin' like 'dat? Montoya and I searched fer' family, she doesn't have any. And ta' make matters worse, 'da girl mentioned somethin' about a strange man. The fire was probably arson. This was probably a murder." The man tossed his toothpick as he started down the stairs, followed closely by Robin. "Montoya thinks it might have ta' do with 'da Gauss Murders. There isn't any proof though, no way to be sure about it."

"Is she hurt?"

"A few burns, a few bruises, and 'da cat she was holding got good and scared and clawed her up something nice. Other than 'dat? No, she's good. It's just 'da rest of her 'dat is hurting, which might be worse then a few injuries."

Tim nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"I know you know." Bullock glanced at Tim and nodded. "Yer' her friend, right? So do what Gordon did fer you. She'll need it."

* * *

Annika was still holding the cat when Tim came into her room. She glanced at him and then hugged the cat tighter. "You came to see me?" 

Tim pulled a chair beside her bed and nodded. "Of course, we're friends, right? You would come to see me too." The boy sighed and looked at her distressed expression and didn't want to try and relate. Thinking back about how he used to feel was painful.

"Mr. Gordon sat with me for a long time. He's n-nice." The girl stroked her cat and then doubled over, hair falling, covering her face. Her body shook and she silently sobbed away, no more tears to shed, but not willing to allow that to stop her.

"I know it's hard, Annika." Tim said softly. "I lost my mom and dad once before. And then I got a new family, and I didn't even get to keep them. I know how you're feeling. And I know you're hurting."

"Twice?"

"Huh?"

She was still trembling and her cat seemed to be used to the constant mood swings of its owner. "You lost your family twice? I remember you told me your daddy died, that's why you live with the Commissioner. How can you loose your family twice?"

"I had two families to loose, that's how. My real parents died when I was a little older than you are now. I went to live with my new family. I was really happy, too, but sometimes things get weird. I lost them all and now I live with Gordon. I know what you're feeling. Alone, scared, torn up inside, angry, depressed, confused. And while you might never get totally better you will get better."

"I hurt all over." The girl admitted. "Inside, all over inside of me. And it won't stop, it won't stop hurting, and I can't feel anything inside, but I know I'm hurting. What will happen to me?" The girl wondered aloud, and then bent over again.

"Don't worry about it right now, Annika." Tim dug into his front pocket and pulled out a plastic bag. "Here. It's a promise made real."

"What is it?"

"It's sidewalk chalk."

"Sidewalk chalk." The girl took the plastic bag from the boy and stared at the pink stick inside of it. "You kept my chalk?"

Tim smiled at her a little. "Yeah, I did. It's usually in my room, but I took it with me today. I thought … thought you might want it back."

Annika looked at him. "Why did you keep it?"

"When you and I first met I come back from seeing my old home, and … and discovered my brother had died. Then on top of that the commissioner told me my guardian, or dad, was probably dead for sure. And I was sitting outside feeling sorry for myself, trying my best to accept things, and you came and sat with me." Tim smiled. "And you gave me sidewalk chalk. Sometimes, when you're feeling bad, dumb stuff can cheer you up. You know?"

The girl rolled the chalk between her fingers. "A promise."

"Yeah, it's my promise that I'll sit with you when you're feeling down. I'll take care of you Annika. I'll talk to you and listen to you."

"Can you smile?"

Tim blinked. "Yes."

"Let me see."

The boy looked startled. He made a face as the girl started intently at him. The awkwardness of the situation allowed him to smile, not out of happiness, but just to make things less weird.

It satisfied the girl though. She snuggled into her covers, holding her cat tighter and the pink chalk in her hand. "I'm sleepy."

"I'll go then and -."

"You promised." She turned to look at him. "You promised to sit with me. Please, don't go."

"Ok." He lowered back into his seat. "I'll stay."

The girl started to cry again, and Tim didn't talk, or try and stop her. He closed his eyes and let her cry. It wasn't long before she drifted into a fitful, but finally a real rest.

_To be continued …_

**Next Chapter:** Hmm, what will the next chapter be about? You tell me! I certainly don't know. And that's just fine, I never know, but I'm sure I'll think of something. XD Thanks for all the reviews, top notch! Not going to lie, this is my all time favorite story I've written, and I don't even get that many reviews. Weird, huh? You'd think I'd get tired or it considering it's not that popular.

**Oneredneckgoddess:** Ah! Hello! Yes, yes, I can't wait till Jim discovers Tim is lying, and Bruce discovers Tim is living with Commissioner Gordon, and everything comes crashing down all around. Oh-ho-ho, I am an evil girl. XD It'll be the best part to write, I've got it all planned out thanks to the song: _Ashita e no Bashno_ (instrumental) from Full Metal Alchemist. Weird thing – it's a happy song:-/ Oh well, thanks so much for the review! Keep reading, things will get faster and more out of control!

**Trunksblue:** Please update son? Tisk, tisk, wasn't it you who called me son before too? LOL, good times, good times. Anyhow, I wonder what Tim is going to do too, because I don't even know. I'm sure he'll think of something, or well, I hope he does. Gah, my computer is so slow, I can barely get around. I try to go to deviantart when I get a chance, but I don't get many. I hate working and slow computers, they don't mix. Anyhow, love all your drawings, I'll ogle at them more when I get back there. XD And yes, Bruce 'remembers' aka, he feels something. I'll get to that in another chapter though. Glad you caught it! Talk to you later.

**Delia Ra'Nar:** Yeah, life without Alfred is not a happy one. I can't tell my sister I killed him off, she'd kill me. Everybody in the world of Batman loves Alfred, he's such a great guy. Oddly enough, he's like a mother … weird, weird, but I had to say it. Saul is just a paid butler, we won't get attached to him.

Oh yeah, Tim is going to crash and burn, and Bruce is going to be like: GAH! And then Gordon will be like: Gah! I can't wait to get into the climax, I've been waiting since I first started this story … four years ago, it's so old. Anyhow, lets hope I can write it how I see it. I feel so guilty, he's just now starting to be happy with life, and looking at things with a nice outlook. I'm so evil.

And yes, bring out the Bat! Bring out the Bat! Thanks so much for your kind words, glad you still are enjoying it!


	15. Chapter Fifteen

_Authors Note:_ Ha, I suck! I won't go through all the details, just be glad I got un-suck-y and figured out how to make computers work? I'm the slowest writer, I think. I'll blame it on summer.

"You're full of hope, but with your head down. And you only have one eye to see, the other's closed, and too scared to peak. And silence of the heart can leave you shattered, and now you're torn, torn to tattered."

**Carbon Leaf **_Torn to Tattered_

**_Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts_**

By: The BatThing

**Chapter Fifteen: **

Tim Drake leaned against the wall in his room at Wayne Manor. He had been there for what seemed like too long. Bruce was happy though – well, _happier_. The man thought that their talk had made an impact on the boy's life, that Tim had taken it to heart and decided to start listening to the man. Well, that wasn't really the truth. When it came down to it, the boy was just staying out of sight.

Annika had gone to stay at Commissioner Gordon's house, which meant reporters and other people would be keeping a close eye there. And if they saw Tim then questions would be asked, that much was for sure. The girl's stay wasn't a permanent one, Jim had told Tim probably ten different times – if not more – that it was just until she found a better place to stay.

The boy hadn't fought the matter, rather he just let it go. He had hoped that perhaps if Annika was there with Jim things would be a lot better. Gordon would be focusing on her a lot more, giving Tim more freedom. That, and if Jim became attached to Annika then … the boy wouldn't feel so bad when he had to say goodbye.

Tim didn't want to think about that now, though. Not now. There was a lot that would have to happen before that day would roll around.

At least the cave was nearby, that was something that gave the boy a way to pass the time. He could sneak down there and work on repairing the mess. And it was awesome to have full access to all of Batman's stuff without getting in trouble … but that was hush-hush. Nobody would ever know about that, _especially_ Bruce – when his memory came round.

"Master Timothy?" Saul's hand knocked against the door politely – waiting for an invitation inside or perhaps just an answer.

Tim dragged himself to his feet to go see his constant house buddy. Opening the door, the boy stepped back, forcing a smile and nodded at the butler. "Hey, what's going on, Saul? Something I can help you with?"

He meant that literally. Saul was always poking about, asking different questions about how something worked, or where something was located. It had started when Tim had found the butler putting all new cleaning products in a strange place in the kitchen. The boy had told him where Alfred kept such things, and oddly enough – there was still a full cabinet of cleaning supplies. Tim walked in a new light, in Saul's eyes, after that. Though, all the questions were getting a little annoying.

"I was cleaning this afternoon and came across this book. It was hidden very well. I considered giving it to Master Bruce, but thought perhaps, it would do better in your hands; considering the present situation." The butler handed over a small red journal and gave his head a slight tilt, then turned and left the room.

Tim flipped open the book, a few loose pages fell from the front of it to the floor. The boy bent down and stopped at the sight. Drawings, _child's_ drawings, scattered the floor. There were just a few, but Tim couldn't help but find it a bit surprising. He smiled at Dick's name stretched at the top in the bad handwriting of a nine year old. He picked up the papers and then turned his attention back to the book.

_Sometimes I think Bruce hates me. Sometimes I think Alfred hates me. I think that maybe I could be wrong. Mom always said that it was wrong to make up your own story for other people. I don't want to ask them if they hate me, though. They'll just say no, even if they hate me, they'll say no. Grown-ups lie. Bruce lies. _

A new paragraph started with the words: _Every day, every night – until you reach the light, I will send to you my love for you, and you'll be alright._

_Mom never had things hard. She never was all alone. When she would tell me to keep trying to reach the light she didn't know. I don't want to try anymore. I just want things to go back the way they were. I want my mom. I want my dad. I want to go home. I hate it here! I want to play with dad like we use to. I want to put my clothes in my chest at home in the trailer. I want to learn how to do the triple flip, like dad said he'd show me. I want mom to tell me: every day, every night, until you reach the light. _

_It was different when she said it. Things did seem like they would get better. Now, all I have are books that Alfred shows me when we are in tutoring. I have the money Bruce provides so he can be a good mentor. But I don't want it. I live in the biggest house ever. But I want our trailer back. I want that small space. I want to be crammed together with mom and dad. I want to sleep without air-conditioning at night, just the sound of our old fan turning round and round. I want that. I want things to go back the way they were. _

The page ended, and so did the entry. Tim took a moment and stared at the words, letting them blend. How the shit did a nine year old write that? There was no way in hell. Tim checked the date, then calculated, then rechecked. Everyone always said Dick was smart, but this?

Tim touched the page, wondering if he could actually believe it. He did. Deep down he believed every word was from Dick. That saying, he had never heard it from the older boy before. He reread the entry and found himself understanding why Dick always understood how Tim felt. Even now, reading his brother's journal, Tim felt like he was being understood – talked to - and by a nine-year-old, nonetheless.

He flipped through reading, and rereading entries. Getting into Dick Grayson's mind and discovering things he hadn't known, and feeling a little worse with each word. Dick had been gone for weeks, Tim hadn't cried much at all about it, or given it much thought.

_I didn't want to. I don't want to._

The boy closed the journal and sat up quickly. He shook his head. _I don't want to think about it at all. _He had Bruce back … _no. _YES! Even if Bruce didn't remember anything, that didn't mean …

_Alone, alone, alone. Just like before. They're all gone, you realize. Barbara, Alfred, Dick …they all are dead. And Bruce? You can't call him back. You might have to live your whole life pretending to be something you're not, and he thinking it's who you are. He won't care about the real Tim Drake. He'll just start to care about Tim Wayne – or whoever you are now. _

"God." Tim closed his eyes, hugging his knees. _Gordon. I got Gordon. _

_You have Gordon? Robin has Gordon. _

_Tim Drake. _"Tim Drake." The boy said his name softly and then shook his head. "God."

_Remember me? _

_Yes. _

Leslie had told him that this might happen. He hadn't been Tim Drake in so long. Just Tim, out in the open – cleared Tim Drake. The kid with the easy smile and quick remark that always got a few smiles. Steven Drake's kid.

_Dick. Remember him? I know you do. You just don't want to. _

"I want that. I want things to go back to the way they were." Tim quoted from Dick's journal. He put the book under his pillow and got up, walking to his brother's old room. It was still in perfect order – ever since the boy had left, running away from home so many years ago. Bruce never had it changed. Pictures, an old guitar, books in a cluttered order, the small coin bank settled beside a random pinecone, computer - an array of different things that were never rearranged. Dick still slept in his room at times, before the bombing, happy that there was always a place for him.

It had been Bruce's room, long ago, and then it became Dick's. Tim lay on the bed, turning on his side. He closed his eyes.

"_I know what it's like; being Robin and living with Bruce, and well, if you ever need to tell me anything just go ahead. That's about all I have to say."_

Dick's words – seemed like forever ago they had been spoken. Seemed, seemed so distant. Tim put the start of his fist in his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. "I want that. I want things to go back to the way they were."

**MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC**

"Tim?" A firm hand shook the boy's shoulder gently. It was all it took for Tim to awake and force his eyes open.

The boy rolled onto his back, looking at the ceiling, feeling drugged. He slowly sat up, feeling the chance of a headache, and then turned his head to look at Bruce. "What time is it?"

"Not that late, it's time for dinner. We couldn't find you, glad I thought to look here." There was a pause that included a smile. "It's such a big house. Sometimes I'm worried I'll get lost."

"Yeah."

"You alright? You seem … I don't know, different."

The teenager stifled a yawn and got to his feet. "I'm just fine, hungry maybe."

"I know you must miss him." Bruce nodded his head towards Dick's bed. "I can't really relate with you on this, I wish I could. Anyhow, I was just thinking … I've _been_ thinking for some time now. You and I get along fine most of the time, and Saul never really complains about you. You seem to be agreeable, and you seem to be happy. I just can't – can't help but think that while you seem to be just fine th-that really you're not."

Tim opened his mouth to protest but his guardian kept going, not leaving room for interruption.

"It's the little things that I've noticed. You never seem upset, but anyone in your position would be … troubled. You're always trying to get along with me, even though I know you really have no respect for my control over your life. You're always missing at strange times, you lie, and while this is all going on you try your best to act like nothing is wrong."

"Nothing is wrong." The tired teenager hardly could help getting slightly stressed by the conversation. "What are you trying to get at? You want me to mope around? You want me to get stuck in the fact that Dick's dead, or the fact that you're not really you? I know that might be normal, but it's not what_ I_ want. I'm not going to waste my life in the slums, Dick wouldn't want that." His lie was pretty good."Dick's dead, Bruce, and there is nothing to be done about it. No amount of talking will ever bring him back."

"It could help _you_ though."

"I'm all talked out. I don't want to talk anymore." The boy started for the door, and then paused, thinking about it. What he said wasn't really true. If Bruce were Bruce … well then, yes, he would have talked. If Alfred were still around, then there would have been many words exchanged. Things were different now, Tim was alone. He had to handle things without help. He looked at his mentor and offered a small smile. "Aren't you coming?"

The man nodded, thinking still about things. "Yes … but Tim?"

"Huh?"

"I didn't finish what I wanted to say."

"What else can you say?" The boy questioned.

A look of frustration came from the billionaire. He didn't scold, just gave a look. "Maybe you should consider talking to a physiatrist, you know? I've called up and found someone who seems real good – they're known for what they do. And Tim, they could help you out. I know you say you're good, that you can fend for yourself … but that doesn't mean anything to me."

The boy wonder was in shock. He just gaped at the suggestion.

"His name is Wallace McAllister."

"Nuh-uh." Tim swallowed and then started to chuckle a little. "There is no way that I'm going to go see someone and talk about what has happened to me. If I can't talk to you about it, what makes you think I'm going to talk to a total stranger? And I can talk about it. You want to talk? Let's talk. I miss Dick, I miss him _like_ _hell_. I found out he was dead before I even knew you were alive. I cried. Alright? I cried so much, I hurt so bad I ended up getting sick over it. See, we talked. Happy?"

"No."

"What do you want from me!" Tim snorted slightly, his eyes getting sharp and his expression darkening. "What do you want to hear? What do you want me to say? What should I do to prove that I'm alright?"

The man didn't say anything for a moment, his eyes just rested on the young boy before him – his thoughts deep. A sigh came and Bruce took a seat on the edge of the bed, smoothing a hand over the comforter. "Sometimes I think I know what I want from you, and other times I can't even guess what it is. Something inside of me, something telling me that you're not alright, even though I shouldn't have a clue as to what is and what isn't alright for you. It's some sort of intuition, there is no explanation for it. I just know that I need to do what I think is best. I talked with Leslie about it, and well, she agreed."

"She did."

"Yes. She thought it would be a good idea."

Tim gave a scoff. "She would, wouldn't she? I don't think she'll be happy till I … till she can ruin my life."

A stern look came from the man. "Don't say that. She cares about you – a lot."

"She cares about herself. She wants to live a life without regret, even if that means ruining someone else's life."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, just forget it."

Bruce looked at him and then gave a forced smile. "Saul's waiting, so let's get some dinner. We can talk about it afterwards."

Tim didn't say anything, he just looked at the man and then turned, leaving the room and heading towards his own. He knew Bruce was watching him, but he didn't care. What he wanted was _his_ room. He closed his bedroom door and latched it, turning towards the window and not caring how childish it was. _He_ wasn't going to eat.

With a flick of his hand he pushed the window open, leaning out a little and looking towards the city. There was nothing to see – nothing but the lights. Trees branched out, all around, blocking the view and making the manor worth a billionaire's money. Nothing could be seen other than the dark sky and the red glow surrounding the city. Nothing to see.

Tim breathed in Gotham's air and sighed, calming down a little. _Well, no matter what happens I'll still have Gotham. _The streets, the dark alleys, the constant change of faces, the pollution, the crime, the old buildings, the lack of plants, the lack of cleanliness, welcome home to Gotham. Tim's city, Tim Drake's city. "Tim Drake. Dick Grayson. Dick."

The boy lowered his head down, hiding it in his arms. He tried his best to think of other things, something other than Dick. It wasn't really possible. Tears started to swell and he could just see his past, feel it, hear it, and even taste it. They had all been there. Dick, Alfred, Barbara, Bruce.

Taking in a deep breath Tim got to his feet, shook his head, and turned to face the door. "It'll be alright. It always is."

_To be continued…_

**Terra89: **I adore Tim! He's really a great character, at least to me. I don't know why I find him so great. There are a lot more interesting characters around. You know? Oh well, Tim Drake forever. Thanks so much for reading, and I'm happy you made it past the first few chapters, they're so bad! LOL, hope you enjoy the story.

**Delia Ra'Nar: **Yeah, Bruce really needs to have the Bat moments, I agree with that. I've made him into a pushover type without meaning to. I had planned to make him sort of more … 'I don't care' and more of the playboy. Somehow he turned out this way. Oh well. But I agree, he should have spastic Bat-moments. Everyone loves the Bat-glare!

Annika – yeah, I wouldn't like her staying at the Wayne household. I don't know why, but that idea doesn't please me. LOL. I thought of finding her a family, but who knows, lets hope she lives through the story. How awful!

I finally got a good ending for the story. Like, I know how I'm going to do a lot of it, but I finally figured out how to tie it all together and make it work. So yea! The story actually is going somewhere, and not just tumbling around in the dark. Thanks so much for the review, lol, and it's alright that it was late. Look how often I update! You were fast compared to me! Summer is never a great time for me to write, I don't know why that is – I just can't concentrate.

**Feartoxin: **Thanks for reading! I'm so glad you liked it! Hope I didn't loose you in my long delay of not posting a chapter. I'm awful when it comes to summer and having a schedule. It just doesn't happen.

**Oneredneckgoddess:** I don't like Saul either! I'm trying to write him as nice as I can, but he has his moments where 'grr' I just want to be like: _Saul decided Wayne Manor was too much work, and said his goodbyes. _Or something. XD I love your name, btw, I never told you that. I come a town of hicks that try not to be hicks. We're pretty cool. Anyhow, thanks for the review!

**Candleblaise: **LOL! I really keep people waiting. It's been like, five years that I've been writing this fanfiction. Somebody should just shot me and take over. Really. Get an arrow and shot me. LoL. Thanks for reading, I'm glad you think it's worth the wait – but it's getting to a point where I'm so slow that it's just silly.

**Trunksblue:** I can't update SON! LOL. Always makes me laugh. So, I've been gone for four months, yes, I am still alive. All I can say is thank goodness for summer, I might be dead if I had to go to school all year long. You know? Now I'm back at college, dreading every day I have class, and getting only a little homesick, and wishing I were rich enough to drive all around the world. I need to check out deviantart, I haven't been there since I was a teenager. LoL, that's fun to say. Hope to talk to you soon! I mean – SON!


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Authors** **Note**: Thanks to Trunksblue for sharing her ideas with me! I did use some of them, so credit to her for that! And then … update! This fanfiction actually has an end, and I can see it … kind of. I see the end of the main plot! Ha! It's like, ten chapters left. That's a lot of chapters … hmm. So it might not concern anyone. XD

"But I'm not broken, in my dream I win. And I take over, 'cause I'm no loser. And I'm in and you're not, bad dreams don't stop, but I'm all screwed up, a Cosmic Castaway. And I want but have not, bad dreams, lust thoughts. In here with no pain, you hurt me again. And I want but have none, I should beat the alien, but here - I'm no one, a Cosmic Castaway."

_Cosmic_ _Castaway_ **Electrasy**

**_Oh_** **_Silent_** **_Prayer_** **_of_** **_My_** **_Thoughts_**

**By: The BatThing**

**Chapter** **Sixteen**:

"Tell me about your parents."

Tim played with a bit of his shirt as he listened to the man before him fire off different questions. It seemed pointless to be here, but there was really nothing to do about it. The boy didn't like the feel of the room, or the look of the man before him. The doctor was all in all … too nice. He had an understanding look, and Tim had a feeling that the man did care, partially, and that worried him for some strange reason. He considered lying, but knew that it wouldn't do any good – Dr. McAllister had his whole file at hand. He considered playing the silence game, but figured that was a little too childish. Tim tilted his head a little, removing his fidgeting hands and lifted his eyes to the man's before him. "My father died, but you probably read about that."

"I've read a lot, Timothy, but that didn't tell me much of anything."

"My parents were young when I was born, mom split soon after, dad went into the slums of Gotham. I mean that in every way possible. He loved mom, and the fact that she left never left his mind. I think he missed her constantly." Tim glanced at the clock. "He took up lots of jobs, most of which just to take his mind off things. He worked late and he worked a lot. When he wasn't working he either drank or slept. Don't get me wrong, he wasn't an awful parent, he was just a depressed guy."

Stan seemed to be in deep thought. "You two got along alright?"

Tim's eyes kept flickering to the clock above the door. He couldn't help it, more than anything he wanted to get out of this room. "You find that hard to believe?"

"No. How much did you get to see of your father?"

Half an hour, what to do … keep talking or what? Tim wasn't going to make people think he was disturbed and couldn't talk about his life. The main goal was to get this Stan McAllister to tell Bruce that there wasn't any problem. Keep talking indeed. "Not a lot, but he had his weeks, or days, where his mood would change. He'd take us out, we'd talk a lot on those days."

"What was it you talked about?"

"Everything and anything. School, friends, the job, foods, you know … anything that came to mind. He was an easy guy to talk to … when he was in the right mood. If he was moping over mom leaving, well then … it wasn't a good day to make conversation. He'd talk, but only just enough to be nice." The boy shivered inside, bleh, this sucked. "Mom's still alive; apparently she works as a cop in Metropolis. After dad died the GCPD found her, and we got to talk. She was nice enough. Told me she was sorry to hear about dad's death, said she was sorry she left like she did … so on and so forth. It was nice to get to talk with her."

"You aren't upset with her?"

"Naturally I blame her for making dad's life miserable, but I can't do much more than that. She fell out of love with him, and well, she was selfish."

The time passed ever so slowly, and finally rolled to an end. Stan got to his feet and walked with Tim down to where Bruce sat waiting – reading a magazine. The two men talked for a few moments in private and then Bruce returned, he and Tim made their way out of the building.

"So? What did Stan the Man say about me? Am I as crazy as you think?" Tim smiled at Bruce, considering a wink as he did so. Perhaps that would be a bit too much. "He was a nice guy, it was kind of refreshing talking to him."

Bruce was deadly quiet as they made their way to the car. It wasn't until they were inside, doors closed, that he spoke. "I thought you said you weren't going to talk to him."

"Well, I was being dumb last night. I guess you could say I was having a childish moment or something." _Yeah right._

"Yeah right."

_Oh. Once more, Bruce is smarter than he looks … metal note made._

"Stan says you are very talkative, and personable, and he can't wait to see you again next week." Bruce turned to glare. "You just play all the card just right, don't you?"

"You're mad!" Tim stuttered a little, on purpose of course. "Why the hell are you mad at me for talking to the guy you hired me to talk to! You make no sense at all, Bruce! What? Would it make you happy if I didn't talk at all to the man, just ignored his questions and stared at the clock. Or maybe if I just gave him smart answers, lied? What would make you happy?"

"If you were truthful for once."

"I am!"

That's when it came. Bruce turned to look at the boy, and Tim saw it. The glare he hadn't seen in so long. Batman's glare. The boy must have made a shocked expression or something because Bruce's face quickly changed. "What? What is it?"

"N-nothing." Tim turned, flustered, and looked out the window. His minds raced, his heart raced, maybe this was a sign that Bruce was coming back? After all, the man said that he was having a strange intuition – and that intuition had so far been right about Tim. Bruce knew when the boy was lying, knew what the boy was feeling and such. Maybe, just maybe things were going to turn out right. One could always hope.

MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC

"So I'm pretty sure that I don't need to know that." Tim pointed his finger at the paper a bit too harshly. He looked up at Bullock and shook his head. "I might as well go back to school. You give me more than enough work for three private schools. Man, I can't go out if you keep giving me all this stuff to learn and shit."

Harvey Bullock didn't seem phased by the ill willed comments coming in his direction. He was chomping on his toothpick and standing, rather confidently, outside of a small _White Crates _resturamt. It was a shabby place, the food wasn't good, and it was worth too much money, but for some reason the detective found it to his liking. "I just give ya' what ya' need ta' know. If this weighs ya' down 'den maybe ya' should consider not goin' out so much."

The boy was quick to make a face at his 'teacher'. He knew it was pointless to argue, especially with Bullock. The man was the one person in all Gotham who appeared to have no fear. He would talk back to Batman, and anyone who could talk without fear to Batman was someone not to argue with. Robin sighed and stared at the papers and books. "Well, did the boss have anything else to say, other than to make sure I keep up with readings and such?"

There was a disgusted look. "I ain't a messenger, kid."

"Fine." Robin frowned as he looked up and down the street. A woman passing by glanced his way, staring at his sunglasses for a moment and then looking away. The boy wondered if it was really a good idea for them to meet like this. Tim had done his best to look 'normal'. Gordon had sent him a message, telling him to meet Harvey at this low class restaurant, and so far the meeting had been rather boring; Just a school check-up. The boy frowned. He had been hoping for something, well, _interesting_. "What time is it?"

"S'round two – why?"

"I had better get back, that's why." Tim snapped his head up and forced a smile to the larger man. "Thanks for the books, I'm happy to read them."

"Yeah right."

"Tell Gordon the next time he wants me to meet, that it isn't for something like this. I have enough on my plate without having to keep up with -."

"Kid." Bullock sneered. "I ain't a messenger, I told ya'. And as for yer' fast mouth – well, think before ya' talk. Yer lucky to have someone worry about ya' like Gordon does. Alright?"

Tim glared at the man. As if having Bruce to hound him wasn't enough. "Yeah well, I just wasn't expecting to come all the way down here for something like this. I was hoping that things had calmed down or something."

"The only thing that has calmed down is Annika." Harvey answered, he shrugged his shoulders. "People are still crawlin' around, always turnin' up in weird places – wantin' inside information on why the Commish is keepin' the girl at his house. They are turnin' it inside out, sayin' that he misses Barbara so he's taking the girl in."

Tim scrunched up his nose and tightened his grip on his backpack. He rose to his tiptoes, and rocked back down, thinking in silence. "How is Jim dealing with it?"

Bullock gave a partial smile, the most he ever gave. "He's just the same as he always is."

"That's good."

"I'll see ya'."

Tim lifted a hand, waving it at the detective. "Tell everyone hi!" He then turned quickly and started to shuffle through the people, walking down the sidewalk and blending with the Gotham crowds with great ease. His thoughts wandered, too much to think about – and he didn't want to think. Basic. He just wanted to space out, think about nothing, think about food, or think about maybe playing a game of soccer or something … hmm. Tim gave a steady laugh. "I think I need friends."

MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC

When Bruce came home that evening he found his ward sprawled out on the couch, watching the television rather intensely. The man kept quiet as he hung up his jacket. He approached the boy, his attention being drawn away by the colors and noises that were attracting the boy.

"…_struggling with the ghosts of his past, Jim Gordon takes on the responsibility of Commissioner of Gotham City. He's considered one of the finest the city has had. After all it was he who turned Gotham around – saved us. The death of his own daughter did not stunt his ability to take control of our city during those weeks of the bombing. He still stands at the top, ready for whatever comes. It seemed that he had handled his daughter's death rather well, until just a few days ago he took a young girl into his home. She was the victim of the Gauss Murderer. Her house, and her family, were lost in the horrid fire last…"_

Tim flipped the television off and looked up at his guardian. "What's up? You're home a little late today."

"It happens." Bruce answered, turning away to head … well, away. He was still perturbed with the teenager. The boy just made him so flustered, it couldn't be helped. It was like living with a con artist or something. The man frowned at the thought. "How was your day?"

Tim flipped his hand back and forth as he replied. He looked perfectly comfortable and totally honest as he spoke. "It was ok, I guess, I got way too much homework, I really think that teachers are becoming more and more worried that we don't have lives or something."

"They're just keeping you busy, besides, looks like you're done with your work already. Right? So they couldn't have given you _that _much."

"Hmm." Tim turned back to the empty screen and sighed.

Bruce looked at the boy for a moment, and then walked on towards his study.

MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC

_Later that Night:_

Tim leafed through Dick's journal, reading the entries again and again. His sigh was barely heard as he stared at the words, lost in thought. How was it that Dick had been so strong when he had been so little? A sharp buzzing caught the boy's attention and he sat right up, glancing around the room in wonder. "What the?"

He spotted a cell phone on his dresser and scrambled to answer, knowing that it had to be Gordon on the other line. The boy wondered what about. He flipped the phone open and walked over to his window.

"Hello?"

"Robin?" There was a pause, it was Montoya. "We're going to need you over here."

The boy opened his window and made his way onto the roof, feeling a bit more secure talking out there. "Where is here?"

"GCPD, just come on over and we'll explain." And the line went dead.

Tim stared at the phone in wonder and shook his head. He scanned the area and then went back into his room. His backpack lay on the floor and the boy quickly emptied all the books from inside it and then slid under his bed, lifting his mattress and moving a supporting board. He grabbed his Robin suit and replaced everything, sliding back out. The boy buried the costume into his bag and then grabbed a sweatshirt, slipped it on, and pulled the backpack on. Tim hurried back to his window and exited, closing it silently and praying that Bruce didn't bother him tonight.

He snuck across and came to the rain pipe. Tim didn't dare trust the object, not since it had broke on his a few years back – gaining him a long period of room time for sneaking out. The boy kept walking till he came to the opposing side of the house and swung his feet down. He held tight and jumped. It was a hard land, and he bit his tongue when he hit and rolled on the ground.

"Shit." The boy stuck it out and carefully walked towards the garage, pondering how bad the bite was.

_To be continued …_

**Terra89**: Hey! Thanks so much for the kind words, lol, I'm glad you liked it. There should totally be a Tim Drake Club. A friend and I started one once, when we were like … babies. Wow, it was like five years ago. Anyhow, lol, I laughed at your way to deal with troubles. It reminds me of a friend. You two should meet, I think you think alike. Glad you read! Tim Drake forever.

**Trunksblue: **Gah! Try going without a computer desk, it sucks! My neck hurts so bad from sitting all weird and having my computer on this little chair and my mouse and keyboard in my lap. I need to get a desk, I can't live without one! … Random fact of the day. Anyhow, I totally stole your advice about Bruce's glare, it was such a good idea. You inspired me to greatness, SoN. LoL. Bleh, anyhow, thanks for the review … hopefully I'll keep writing fast? Maybe.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Authors Note:** Country music rocks. How is that for relevant?

"Since the last time we talked the walk has been hard. Now I know you haven't left me, but I feel like I'm alone. I'm a big boy now, but I'm still not grown. And I'm still going through it - the pain and the hurt. I soak up troubles like rain in the dirt."

_Lord Give Me a Sign _**DMX**

_**Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts**_

**By: The BatThing**

**Chapter Seventeen: **

Robin dumped his bike in the entrance of the hall at Gotham City Police Department Headquarters. He figured it'd be safe there, for now, and just hoped that nobody would think it was his. He felt rather un-cool with a bike. The boy paced across the floor and found the building rather … empty. He frowned as Montoya came towards him, hurrying down the hall. She was pale.

"If I had known you were going to take so long to get here I would have picked you up myself. What took so long?" She was apparently far from a good mood. It was the first time Tim had seen her upset like this, and he wasn't sure of the reason. It made him worry, something had to be wrong.

"I was out of town when you called. It took some time to get all the way back here. Sorry." He paused, seeing her expression faltering a little. "What's wrong? What happened? Is Gordon -"

"Jim is fine, everyone is … alright. As far as alright goes in this city." She paused and shook her head. "Apparently the Gauss Murderer has made another hit, guess where."

Robin considered and shrugged his shoulders. How would he know? Montoya had said that everyone was fine, so that meant it wasn't anyone here … and he had just been home so what did that leave?

"Bullock's in the hospital, he'll live – just suffering from some second degree burns and such. Apparently our criminal has decided to put his foot into the Police family." She frowned. "Bullock said that he didn't know what was going on till there were flames. What do you think about that?"

"B-but doesn't this guy have the same pattern of killing before hand, whoever he sets out to kill? We've researched this, and he kills the people and then burns their homes with them inside of it. Annika was the only one he didn't do this too, but she just didn't talk so -." Tim shook his head. "He let Annika live, and now he let Bullock live?"

"There is the possibility that it isn't the same guy." Montoya said.

Tim lifted his head, looking at her hopefully. "You think that maybe it's just someone else, or maybe an accident?"

"Well no." She shook her head. "Annika's family was murdered, and then their house was burned. I don't doubt that it was the Gauss Murderer for that situation. He let Annika live, maybe he felt pity for the girl, maybe he missed her."

"And what about Bullock?"

The woman shrugged. "We're still looking over the remains of his house. There isn't much to go by in this situation." She frowned. "It's troublesome though. I with your little Annika friend would talk to us. It would really clear a few things up."

The boy was quiet as he looked at her. "Don't you think it's weird that this has happened to two people that we know? I mean, it's a strange coincidence that I know the last two victims."

"Bullock's fire might not be from the Gauss murderer, remember that."

"It's still strange." Tim shook his head, something was telling him not to think too much. He didn't want to think too much. His thoughts went to Barbara oddly. He gave his head a firm smack, which earned him a disapproving look from the woman before him. "It's just weird, that's all."

"Well, how about you and I head over to the hospital to talk to Harv, alright?"

"Yeah. Ok."

MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC

The hospital hadn't changed since Tim had been there last. He trailed behind Montoya, thinking to himself and nodding occasionally at the cops he recognized. Some were calling him Quinn now, probably due to Annika. The boy tried to put the pieces together. The Gauss Murders hadn't been his main concern these last few weeks, he had been more concerned with … well, the secret. If Batman were here, well, Tim was sure he'd get a lecture. People's lives were on the line, and the boy hadn't giving the situation his full attention – and now he was paying for it.

Annika and Bullock had suffered, who would be next?

"Hey!"

Robin lifted his head and saw Justin hurrying towards him, smiling. Montoya kept walking, not willing to wait for the boy. Something told Tim she was worried about her partner. He didn't blame her, even if they had been told Harvey was alright, she still seemed on edge. Bullock had always seemed to protect her. "Hi Justin, what's up?"

"Well, not much, my partner and I were just visiting Bullock. Though, well, I didn't really get to see him." Justin smiled. "He's in a foul mood, not that I can blame him."

"Yeah, it sucks."

"Yeah. Bullock isn't the type to lie in bed and recover while people visit." Tim smiled and tossed his head a little. "I haven't seen you in awhile, what have you been up to?"

Justin frowned at this. "My partner doesn't let me do much. I'm mostly stuck in the office. Where have you been? It's been like, a week or two since you were around. Are you getting busy?"

The boy shook his head, planting his hands in his sweatshirt's pocket. "Nah, just doing odd jobs here and there, you know."

"Yeah well, you and I need to get together and hang out sometime." The young man said with another smile. "I better go find my partner, head out before he gets upset. I'll talk to you later, Rob."

Tim made his way to Harvey's room and entered to find the man glaring at Montoya. She was lecturing him about being so rude to the doctors, and listening to what they said. It was sort of funny to see.

"Hey, what the hell is he doin' here?" Bullock growled, pointing a finger in Tim's direction. "Didja' come here ta' complain about the work I assigned? 'Cause you better run if that's the case!"

"Cool it Harvey, he's my partner on the Gauss Case." Montoya snapped, hands on hips, but a smile on her face. "That's why we came, this isn't a social call, I'm afraid."

The detective made a face at the two standing at his bedside. "What do ya' want ta' know? One moment I'm readin' and the next the house is on fire."

"Harv."

The man sighed with a glare. "So I called the fire department, and tried ta' put it out myself. I got burnt, dat's when I decided ta' get out."

Tim wasn't sure how this was going to help, it was clear that Bullock would have told them everything they needed to know. From the sounds of it he was as clueless as they were. The boy couldn't help but think that it was a 'natural' cause. Old oven, bad microwave …weird wires.

Montoya kept asking questions, and Bullock gave straight answers, each time looking more and more annoyed. Tim didn't blame him, the man lost his house, he was probably in pain – and to top it off, it was clear that there wasn't any obvious reason for the cause. Well, not yet at least. The boy waited until he decided it was alright to head out. He said his goodbyes to an upset Bullock, smiled and waved to Montoya, and headed out … for home.

He just wasn't sure where home was yet.

When he got outside the rain was falling heavy, forcing him to pull on his hood. He gave a little shiver, lifting his head and looking above at the sky, and watched the grey clouds for a moment. Moments were passing by, and he didn't notice. The boy stood on the steps of the hospital staring up at the light grey clouds passing overhead.

"Are you alright?"

"Ehm?" Tim turned to look at some woman holding her jacket tightly to her body. She looked slightly concerned, though not overly so. Her hair was frizzled from the rainfall, and Robin wondered if she knew about it. "I'm fine, just spacing, heh."

"Oh, yes." She smiled and then gave a nod, starting to walk away.

Tim watched her for a moment and then it dawned on him how kind she had been to ask the boy such a thing. Gotham people could fool you at times. "Hey!"

She turned, looking confused.

"Th-thanks for asking!" He smiled and turned to head to Wayne Manor. His fingers crossed and he smiled. _Maybe today Bruce will remember. _

And the rainfall slowed a little.

MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC

Tim shivered a little, pulling his black sweat jacket closer to his body and dropping his head slightly. It was an endless rain, always a light sprinkle – it seemed to go on and on. A week now since the rain had started, and it just kept going. It slowed at times, and it was never a heavy rain – but it was always there. It was miserable. The grey skies rolled on and on, whenever the boy would look up they would be there, like the rain. Miserable.

He was trying to catch 3A Gotham Square bus, along with twelve other people. An array of umbrellas surrounded the boy, all of which seemed to share the same mood as the weather. They were distant, a constant look of miserable. Some were reading, others simply waiting, none of them seemed willing to cast a smile. The weather just didn't let something like that happen.

The bus rolled to a stop near a small stream of dirty water rushing to the gutter, and Tim hopped over it. He flashed the driver his student ID and boarded with the others, silent and hoping to get a reasonable seat. On Gotham buses – that was hard to find. He never enjoyed riding the bus system, but he didn't have much of a choice. Jim had asked him to come over, told him that things had cleared up enough … for now.

So here Tim was, trying to make his way to the house, and wishing the sun was out so he could have ridden his bike. The bus smelled like wet dog. Bleh.

An hour later, Robin knocked on the front door to Gordon's house. It wasn't long till the door was swung open and Jim took a step outside, smiling at the Boy Wonder. "Welcome back!" He shook Tim's hand. "I bet you were homesick. Montoya said you were putting a lot of time in on the Gauss Case, so you haven't had too much time to miss us, right?"

Tim smiled a little - it was nice to be missed. "I just wish all the time I put in would get me somewhere." The boy shrugged his shoulders. "The guy is a no show, wherever I go … it's like he's a ghost."

"You'll figure it out, Batman taught you – you'll figure it out." Jim and Tim entered the house and it surprised the boy at the sight. Boxes were all around and things were packed up, the furniture scarce.

"What the?"

"I didn't tell you … we're making a move. It's closer to the station, and further away from … well, Annika's memories." There was a frown. "She can't live here, not right by her old house. It's too much for anyone to have to live with that sort of pain. A constant reminder of how things use to be." The man shook his head as he looked out the window.

Robin let the words sink in and hung his head a little. "This is your house, Jim. Can you really just up and sell it? That seems like a big move for you … and it seems wrong." The boy knew memories of Barbara filled this house, it seemed _so_ wrong that the man was leaving it all.

"I think moving would be best." Gordon smiled at Tim, a sad smile. "This house does have a lot of things that I will miss, but like I said … it takes a strong person to live with a constant reminder of how things use to be. I'm not as strong as you might think, Robin. I don't want to ever forget, but seeing things day after day and knowing … knowing she's gone is too much for me."

Tim listened in silence, not meeting the man's eyes. Feelings of hurt whelmed up in the boy's heart, gravity seemed wrong. "You're as strong as I always knew you were, Jim. You have yet to prove that you can't handle something."

"Well, do you want to see the new house?"

"Yeah. Where's Annika, by the way?"

Gordon signaled to the back door. "She's out there, probably at the playground. She spends a lot of time there. The first thing she asked me when I told her we were moving was if the new house would have a park. Fortunately it does. She then told me that you'd be happy to know that, because you like the playground."

Robin smiled. "I guess she and I always ran into each other there."

"Could you go tell her we're going to the new house?" Jim asked. "I'll load some of these boxes into the car."

"Sure." Tim headed out the back and found the girl on the playground, like Gordon had said. She was jumping rope, and doing poorly at it. The rain seemed to have no affect on her ability to play outside. She was wearing a pink windbreaker, a pink hat, pink boots … clearly she was a girl. "Annika!"

The girl stopped skipping and looked up. She saw Tim and her smile flourished. "You're back!" She squealed, running at him, the rope forgotten.

Tim stepped back, surprised at the young girl coming his way. He wasn't use to such obvious affection. The girl was clearly expressive in her emotions. When she got to him she leapt up and hugged him.

"Jim said you wouldn't be back for a while! He said that you were working on something big, and that it could take a few hours. So I just went outside and decided to jump rope. Did you see my new jacket and hat? Montoya went shopping with me for clothes. We got a lot of stuff! You should see my room at the new house, I have a these things from people at Jim's work! And look at my necklace!" The girl pulled at a chain around her neck, showing Tim. It was three simply rings that hung on the chain. "They all say something. This one says future, this one says luck, and this ones say promise!"

"Wow." Tim smiled at her. "Who gave you that?"

"I don't know, he said he was your friend. I think his name was Julius."

"I don't have any friends named Julius that I know of."

"Jim knows his name." Annika went back and got her rope. "You want to see me skip? I'm really good! Jim taught me how to do it! He said I'm good."

"I saw you when I was walking out here, you were good! But Jim says we're going to the new house, so you can show me there, ok?" The boy started to move back towards the house and Annika followed close behind him.

"Quinn?"

"Huh?"

"Where were you staying? Jim said you were staying with a doctor. Are you sick?" Annika grabbed the boy's hand and clutched. Her blue eyes looked into his. "Are you going to die?"

Tim couldn't hide his surprise. He supposedly been staying with Leslie, but he hadn't expected Jim to tell Annika that. Oh well. "I'm not sick, I just … the doctor is like my aunt. I was just visiting for a while. I do that every now and then."

The girl thought about that, but not for too long. "Did you know that Jim said I might be able to stay with him forever?"

No. Tim had not known that little fact. He frowned at this. It wasn't bad news or anything, but he had been sure that Jim wasn't planning on keeping the girl. It was a temporary thing – until they could find a better home. Gordon just seemed so … so … vulnerable. Barbara's death was still fresh, it seemed. _This should be good news, Tim, stop being an asshole and smile! _"That's good Annika, are you happy?"

"Yeah, that means you and I will be brother and sister."

_Ok. _"Kind of."

"Are you adopted by Jim?"

"No."

"Shouldn't you be adopted by him? You live with him."

"So do you."

"He plans to adopt me though. Does he want to adopt you?" Her questions were sincere, but rather blunt. "Why wouldn't he want to adopt you? Huh! Do you not want to be adopted? If that's the case then you should think about it, because I don't think anyone else will want you."

Robin blurted out a laugh. "Thanks Annika!"

"What?"

"Why wouldn't anyone else want me?"

"You're old. Do you have a girlfriend? Are you married?"

"No."

"I think you're supposed to have one by now, Quinn."

This was one strange girl, or maybe all seven year old were like this? Tim certainly didn't know. He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I'm just not very normal."

Annika made a face. "Do you not like Jim? Is that why you don't want him to adopt you?"

"Annika …Jim can't adopt me because I'm not up for adoption." Tim tried to think of a good story.

"Up for adoption … what does that mean?"

"It means that … that … I don't need to be adopted. It's kind of like if you see a dog and you want to buy it, but you can't because it has owners already."

The girl looked confused. "So you're already adopted?"

"No." Tim lied. "I'm just too old to be adopted."

"Then your dog story doesn't make sense. You should have said that the dog was too old to be bought." Annika pushed the door open and looked at Tim with a strange expression. "Then I guess we can't be brother and sister if you aren't adopted."

_To be continued …_

**Trunksblue: **You didn't say that about Bruce's glare? Hmm, I better look through and double check. I need to keep better track of what people say. Someone suggested it and I was like: _Good_ _idea_! LOL. Well, thanks anyway. XD My desk was being used by a renter of the house. I just got it back! Yea! As for my Ghosts in the Closests fanfiction … it's still going, just rather slow. LOL. Very slow. I wrote some more for it, but not a chapter yet. I think I have two pages. Bleh. Cross your fingers that I'm inspired to write. This is the only fanfiction that I can write with ease. I think it's because I've been writing it for four years and not many people review. It makes me not care so much … so I can write much better. XD XD Thanks for reviewing, son. ;)

**Terra89: **Hey! Yeah, the comics and the cartoon series are so different! I started the cartoon first, then moved to the comics, then ended up with both. I love getting comics, its fun! You know what I mean? The guys are always like: A girl in the comic shop! My friend comes with just so guys will say that to her. I tell her such things are shallow. XD Yeah, that is the universal question … will Bruce remember? LOL, good question! Read to find out … haha! How is that for endorsement? I think I could sell things or something, I'm that good. ;) Thanks for reading, I'll be sure to update soon … I hope!


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Authors Note: **Nothing to say here. XD

"I want to believe that my hopes aren't for nothing. I want to believe that there really is more to life than darkness. Just like even if I'm pelted with rain I know the sun will come up again. No matter how much I'm knocked down by pain, kindness has continued to fall down upon me."

_Fruits Basket Volume Ten_

_**Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts:**_

**By: The BatThing**

**Chapter Eighteen:**

Tim Drake didn't think much of the new house; in fact it made him uncomfortable. It was a two story house with _four_ bedrooms. Guilt came over the boy – Gordon considered him and Annika members of his family. That was _not _good. What would happen when the day came that Robin would have to say goodbye?

_You don't have to worry about that for a long time still. _The little voice in Tim's head sounded off without warning. _Bruce won't be remembering anything … especially not at the rate he's going. Who knows, you might have years ahead of you, years of living this life._

Robin lowered his head at that thought. He didn't want to have to pull this off for years and years … he just wanted Bruce to remember so things could go back to normal. So Gordon could really move on with his life - so people wouldn't become so attached to him … and so that he wouldn't become so attached to people.

"Do you like your room, Quinn? Isn't it big? I've never lived in a house this big before!" She ran into the room and Tim followed her slowly, looking around his new bedroom. It was large … he guessed. Compared to his room back home it couldn't compare. He smiled at the girl bouncing on his bed.

"Yeah, it's a pretty nice set-up here."

"And did you see the park that we passed?"

"You pointed it out to me more than once."

The girl smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "This is a great place, I really like it here. I do." Her smiled faded a little and she began to look more and more grim. Slowly but surly her eyes started to whelm up with unexpected tears. "I miss my mommy and daddy."

Tim was slightly taken back, he made a face of surprise – but quickly countered it. He could understand what she was feeling, and Gordon could understand too. They all were hurting … the only difference was that Annika was the only one who was allowed to cry. She was young, she had that right. Tim did his best to smile as he sat down next to her. "I miss my family too, but that doesn't make it any better."

She didn't look any more at ease with his words or with his smile. She sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve. "What does make it better?"

"Well … not a lot. Time, I guess." The boy sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, thinking of Dick. _Until you reach the light. _"I know things are tough, but ... things get better. And you're not alone; always know that you have people around you who will listen, who care about you."

"Nobody cares about me." She closed her eyes. "Nobody loves me."

"That's not true."

A glare came with a fierce turn. "Yes it is! You don't even _know_ me. Y-you can't love me like they did."

Robin was quiet as she got to her feet and started for the door. Her words stayed with him as he sat in wonder. It was true, what she said. He couldn't care for the girl in the same way her parents had … just like Gordon, Bullock, Montoya … even Bruce … they couldn't love him. They didn't know him. None of them knew _Tim_. They knew pieces, different parts, but the only person in the world who knew Tim for Tim was … Tim. He hung his head in this thought. The realization that he was totally unloved fell upon him.

_How strange it is, this world is filled with so many people. _Robin reached for the pillow lying on his bed and hugged it to his chest. _How strange that there is no one out there who knows me._

"Annika! Quinn! You guys want to go see the park?" Jim's voice carried throughout the house, but it seemed as if it went by unheard. "Guys?"

"No." Annika yelled, obviously crying. She tried her best to be strong, to sound like she was alright.

"Annika?" Gordon made his way over to her room and Tim could hear him knocking on her door. "Are you alright? Can I come in? … Why is your door locked?"

_Alone. _Tim stared into the space between him and the ends of the earth and couldn't see. Annika's words were so true, and Annika was where he was. _Alone. _

"How about letting me in, Annika. What's wrong? Why are you crying?" Jim made his way to Tim's room only to find the boy staring into space, looking rather lost. The commissioner was silent for a moment then sighed, shaking his head. "I don't suppose you know what's wrong with Annika?"

Robin lifted his head, forcing a smile and acting like there wasn't anything in the world that could bother him. Boy Wonder, Batman's successor, man – he had everything under control! "She's sad about the move, I think she's just homesick – and who can blame her?" The boy got to his feet and walked into the hall, going to the girl's door.

Jim was behind him, staring. "Are you alright?"

Tim did his best to look confused and somewhat surprised by the question. "I'm fine, let me talk to Annika real fast." The boy stepped towards the door and gave it a knock. "Hey, Annika – I want to talk about what you said. You said that Jim and me … that we can't love you like your family did. I just wanted to say that – you're right. We can't, and I don't think we ever will. It's just that … there are different types of love, right? Just like your mom didn't love you the same as she loved your dad. It's all just … types of caring. Jim and I care about you, we do. I know we are practically strangers, but that doesn't stop us from caring. You care about us right?"

There was a pause, an uncertain pause. "…Yes."

"Well then, how can you say that we can't care about you? It's not true. It's just not true." Tim stared into the wood before him, trying his best to smile, trying his best to think of others. But he, just like everyone else, was born selfish – and it wasn't something easily stopped. He wanted more than anything to have the attitude of _screw you _and just leave things be. He didn't want to help, he didn't want to care.

The door opened, slowly, and Tim stepped back as Annika looked up at him. "Why are you so sad, Quinn?" She blinked away at the tears. "Why are you always sad?"

It was a surprising question, Tim looked at her. "I'm not sad."

She looked at Jim, and then back at Robin. "You talk and you eat, you smile and say that you're glad – but you always seem … sad. I can smile and talk to you, and I can mean it – but when I see that you're just talking it reminds me."

"Reminds you?"

"You said that things will get better – you even showed me you could smile. Remember? At the hospital, you smiled?"

"Yeah."

"I don't want to be sad like you!" She closed her eyes. "Can't you even smile?"

Jim stepped forward. "Annika – I think you're tired, the move has been hard on you." His voice was calm, and it was strange that he had stepped in like he had. What the girl had said was _true_! Jim knew it, Annika knew it … everyone knew it.

_They've seen through me all along. This whole time, they've just played along with it. _Tim was staring at the floor, trying his best to compose himself.

"How about I get us some dinner. You guys hungry?"

Annika shook her head, tears starting up again. "I just want to go back home. I want things to_ go back the way they were_!"

"THEY CAN'T!" Tim felt anger rising inside of himself. He couldn't help it, he was so _mad_. Dick's words – wishing things to go back to the way they were. It was just a stupid child's wish. "_Get over the past – get over the way things were. They're the way they are … stop … stop … stop pretending. Stop wishing!"_

"...Quinn..." Jim reached out.

"_Don't touch me! I …_I …I'm sorry. Annika, I didn't mean." Tim felt himself blushing as he realized what had just happened. He hadn't meant to loose control like that, but it had happened – and Annika looked shocked and scared. Jim simply looked worried, a mixture of concern and wonder. Robin turned and walked away, quickly getting outside, needing some fresh air. _What did I just do? What did I just say?_

"Robin?" Jim stood behind the boy. "Are you alright?"

Tim nodded his head. "I'm fine. I'm just … fine."

Gordon slowly took a seat by the teenager and sighed, looking out into the city with a saddened expression. "You know, what you told Annika is true – about people who care about her. I hope you aren't just talking and not believing what you say. The things you tell her, they're _true_."

"Maybe." Tim closed his eyes and clutched his hands together. "Maybe so. It's just that … you can't care about someone you don't know. Annika is real, you're real … I'm … I'm not me. And sometimes I wish I could be, I want to be myself so bad. I want to be me."

"You are you."

"No, I'm not. Sometimes, maybe, but never completely – never really." Tim opened his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. "It is part of me, this is. I just keep trying to remember how I use to be, before it happened – how I should be, and I can't remember. It could be that I'll be stuck as Robin forever, or stuck as … I just wish I could be myself."

"I find it hard to believe that you're not you. I can't believe that you're just really great at acting." Jim couldn't stop the doubtful look. It just came with his words. He meant what he said, the boy was being impossible.

Robin looked up at the grey sky, wondering when the next rain would come, and knowing it would be soon. "Do you think Batman was really like that all the time? You didn't realize Batgirl was your own … daughter. They all acted."

"Not all the time, but there had to be moments in the mask. Moments when nobody was around other than the people they trusted … Barbara was herself around you I'm sure." Gordon looked slightly hurt talking, but that didn't stop him.

"Yeah, you're right. But … but when I'm alone I find that trying to be who I really am, is rather … hard. I think I've become someone else, someone I didn't expect to be. I use to be so different. I'm not this person." He looked at his hands. "I'm not so grim, I'm not depressed, I laugh a lot – I smile a lot. I'm not always … hurting."

Jim was silent.

"Quinn?"

Tim turned to find Annika at the doorway, tear stained cheeks and all. She threw herself at him, arms going around his neck. The boy felt her hugging him with so much strength. "Don't be sad."

Robin let the girl hug him, but nothing else was said or done. He sat rock solid – not able to pretend anymore. At least … not right now. He was somewhere in-between the real and the fake, and totally lost.

MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC

"Hey, Tim." Bruce smiled at the teenager as the boy entered into the house, closing the door and dropping his backpack to the floor. Tim watched him carefully as he pulled off his sweat jacket and flipped off his shoes. The man seemed … well, _happy_. Tim wasn't sure as to the reason, but he supposed it didn't really matter.

"What's up?" It was a general question, and Tim really wondered. He lifted his backpack back up and walked towards the man on the couch. "Did'ja win the lottery or something?"

"The lottery? No. I actually wanted to talk to you." The man's expression slowly changed and he motioned towards the couch. "Have a seat."

_Uh-oh, this can't be good. _Tim took a seat and looked at his guardian with a cautious front. "Am I in trouble?"

Bruce was quiet for a moment, and then smiled. "No, no not this time. I actually was hoping to apologize to you for how I've been these last few weeks. I haven't been very trusting, and I know that you've probably found that rather … annoying. Your friend, Ron? Well, he called today and we talked."

"Oh?" Tim's mind raced. Ron called? He hadn't seen his friends from high school in such a long time. Why in the world did Ron call? It was so out of the blue. Tim bit his lip, wondering if his friend had covered him or not.

"I asked him a few questions, pried. He basically told me that you had been spending a lot of time over at his house, and that you talked to him a lot. He said that you were trying to get over Dick's death, and that's why you were missing a lot. I even talked to his mother, and she said that it was all true. I just wanted to apologize for assuming the worst. I shouldn't have."

Shock covered Tim's face, and it couldn't be helped. Ron had made up that story and gotten his mother to agree with lying? That seemed impossible to believe. Ron was a good friend, had been a good friend – but not _that _good. "I-it's alright. I would understand why you would think what you did. Don't worry about it."

"I do though."

"Please, don't. I mean it." Tim felt awful, the lie was just getting worse and worse. He felt dirty for dragging his friend's family into it with him. How much worse could it get? Bruce was thinking one thing, which was good … but here his mentor was apologizing for doing the right thing. "I'm glad you worry. So don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. I wasn't very honest."

"I shouldn't have gotten so upset with you though. And it's not ok, but I'm thankful you accepted my apology." Bruce smiled, placing a hand on Tim's shoulder. "And if you want to talk to me, don't be afraid. I know I don't remember anything, but I still can listen and try to understand."

"T-thanks."

The night passed quickly, Bruce's mood was so good that Tim couldn't help but warm up to him. The boy had offered that they not eat at the house, order pizza – something _different_. "No offense, I love Saul's cooking and all … but come on! Every night?"

Bruce made a face. "Ordering out though? It seems …"

"Normal?" Tim laughed. "Come on, can't we just go to McDonalds or something? Have you a memory of McDonalds even?"

"Should I?"

The boy laughed again, nodding. "Yeah, you took me a few times. It's the best food in the world. Their fries and milkshakes … the _best_."

Bruce smiled, chuckling a little. "Well, we'll have to be fast and careful, I don't want this to be in the paper."

"Who cares if it's in the paper? What will they say? You go out just like any other American? You can't be an American if you haven't eaten at McDonalds, I'm pretty sure that's a fact."

So they went, and they ate, they talked, and Tim found himself even laughing at the man. He would tell stories from the past and Bruce would be so shocked, or say something so random, it would cause the boy to break down laughing. It was like talking with an old friend about good memories, and the teenager _enjoyed_ it.

They got back late, and Tim crawled into bed after a quick shower. He was almost asleep when his cell phone started to vibrate at his side. He sat up with a start and flipped it open to find it was Jim. _This is weird, why in the world is he calling me so freakin' late? _"Ti- wow, I mean hello." _I almost said my name! I almost said Tim here. I can't believe I'm that stup-_

"Robin? You need to get over here." Jim sounded worried.

"What's happening?"

"The house … it's gone. Annika's freaking out. We're trying to calm her down. She's hurt pretty bad, Robin. She keeps screaming, he almost got her, I was able to stop him – he tried … just come to the station, come to the hospital. Now." And the line went dead.

Tim dropped the phone and moved for the door.

MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC

"_JIM_!"

Gordon turned at the sound of his name and saw Robin running towards him. The boy was clearly out of sorts. He was wearing flannel pajama pants and his usual black sweat jacket. Flip flops were all that covered his feet – and he was soaked through and through. A towel was around his shoulders, a nurse had given it to him. "You got here fast."

"What happened? That was the worst way to hang up! Where's Annika? Didja' see the guy who started the fire?"

"Slow down, kid. It was … it was probably right after we went to bed that he came. I woke up to Annika screaming and went into the hall – fire was everywhere. Not a lot, but it was so sporadic, like the man had just walked through and lit different areas. I found Annika in her room, on the floor, her neck was cut – scared me bad. Apparently she scared him off with her screaming, he knew I was on my way so he ran."

"She's ok!"

Gordon nodded. "It wasn't bad, but she's pretty shook up. She says that he just jerked her out of bed. She said she knew him, Robin. That's the thing."

Tim stuttered at that. His eyes went wide. "She knows who it is! Did she – did she tell you?"

"Montoya took a squad out to get him, hopefully they can manage. I promised Annika I wouldn't leave, so I can't help them."

"I should go and -."

"No. Robin, you're the one she trusts the most, probably. You should be with her, like you were before. She was asking for you when I found her. Crying for you, she's scared that he's going to come after you now. She said he's gotten all of us, so why not you." Gordon made a face. "And I'm slightly worried that she could be right."

"What?"

The commissioner shook his head. "It's just … he's after someone here, he has some sort of grudge. And then when I discovered who it was it started to tie together."

"Who is it!"

Gordon looked around and then blinked at Tim. "Your friend ... Justin Extine."

_To be continued … _

**Trunksblue**: LOL, inspiration achieved! It's so late, and I need to go to bed. I'll skip class – hail the college life! But I'm sleepy. Anyhow, you guessed it, girl! Justin is the bad dude in this. Though, things start to all come together – ha! They won't till the next chapter, that's where things are like: I _never_ _knew_. Haha. Hmm, it's late. I'm not making much sense. Anyhow, thanks for the read and review, like usual. Talk to you SON, lolirl. This is a joke that will never get old. XD

**Terra89: **Justin is the correct answer. You totally guessed it. I thought I was being all cool and secretive. Sigh Apparently I wasn't sly enough in my writing, lol. That's probably alright though. Maybe the next time around I'll be more … sly? Glad you liked the chapter, hopefully you're ready for things to make a little more sense, 'cause that's what the next chappie is about. Let's hope I write it fast. I'm excited about it. Thanks for the review, you always make me laugh, lolirl.

**JLAfan: **Hey, hey, hey! Thanks for the review, it made me _happy_. I love reviews, they're number one! Glad you want more from the story, I hope that means you like it. I'm an assumer, so I'm going to assume that you do! HA! XD Thanks again!


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Authors Note: **Yeah, this chapter is sort of fast. I don't know. I had one thing planned – and this was written. It's not what I had wanted, but it's what I got. And as much as I should re-write, I really can't. Not for like, another five months – when the idea becomes good and appealing again. So, yeah, I had been dreading this chapter – and ended up writing it one night. And I was sort of out of it when I wrote it, so that makes it a little more fun.

"_Stirred up by the breeze, strong but not at peace, free but unreleased. Caught up inside, all I wanna' be. Try to survive, all alone."_

_Comfort_ **Carbon Leaf**

**Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts**

**By: The BatThing**

**Chapter** **Nineteen**:

Tim felt his jaw drop. "Justin?"

"Yes. Justin Extine." Gordon shook his head. "I suppose we were idiots for not realizing, he was right under our noses, too damn good I suppose. That, or we were too damn dumb."

The boy nodded, not really listening – but at the same time agreeing with whatever was being said. "Too damn dumb."

"I think it's just best if we wait for Montoya and Bullock to bring him in. I know they can manage, they have some of the best cops with them – not to mention a sort of lead. We know everything about him, considering he worked for us. Information that can't be wrong … well, shouldn't be wrong. People would have gone over it."

"You can never be sure, especially since he was able to trick us like he did." The boy paused, looking up at the commissioner. "I'm sorry, I gotta' go after him. Tell Annika I'm going to get him, tell her I'm going to get him for her family – and tell her I'll bring him down. Tell her to get well soon."

"Robin!"

Tim ignored the man and ran down the hospital hallway, knowing what needed to be done – knowing that if he didn't bring down this man, if there was the possibility that Justin escaped, got away for good – how could Tim look Annika in the eyes again? No, he would do everything he could to get Justin. He had to.

* * *

Robin ran, in full costume, and felt a sort of power. The knowledge that he was out on the trail for a man who had caused a large portion of pain and misery – the knowledge that he _would_ bring Justin in, make him pay. Perhaps that could be the help he needed, to get a sort of justice for once in a long while. If he could, he would at least avenge her family – seeing as he couldn't avenge his own. 

He caught a cop car, riding atop of it in silence, and knowing that the cop driving was unhappy with the boy on top. No complaint was made, perhaps the driver was nervous, but he seemed to understand the situation. Robin was out for crime, and the cop was helping. If anything, he had a good story to tell his friends – Robin rode on top of his cop car. True story.

The car ride seemed to take forever, but finally they came to a stop at a collection of other cars – and the boy could see Montoya and Bullock ducked behind their cars. Robin leaped off the car and ran for them. "GUYS!"

"Robin? What are you doing here? Get down!" The woman pulled the boy down beside her. "I thought you'd be with Jim and Annika?"

"I want to be here. I want to help."

"Well, at the moment there isn't much to be done. Our main guy is in there, and he won't come out. Had a gun, has a gun and a bad temper." Montoya shook her head, looking at Bullock who looked furious.

The teenager was silent for a moment, then nodded. "I'm going in."

"Like hell yer goin' in 'der!" Bullock growled, taking a tight hold of Robin's arm and keeping the boy where they were – keeping him …

Safe.

Robin looked at Bullock, then at Montoya whose eyes had gotten rather large, and he smiled. It was great – knowing that there were so many people who had his back. Even though his family was practically gone, it didn't take long to find people who jumped up to the plate. There were people who protected him, people who cared for him, people who were there to support him. "You're right. It's dumb to go."

The detective nodded, releasing his grip.

The Boy Wonder jerked up, and stepped away from the two twice. "But I gotta' go. Don't worry, I'll be back!" And he sprinted into the building.

* * *

Robin entered the building with little trouble, and searched around. At first there weren't any signs of anyone being there – so he climbed another set of stairs, and looked around. It was there, on the second story, he found his friend. "_JUSTIN_!" 

The young man turned with a bit of a surprised look. He stopped to face the boy walking towards him and simply smiled. "Robin, what an unexpected surprise - I wasn't planning on seeing you for a while yet."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Robin gave Justin a dirty look and stopped a few feet away. "What happened to us being friends? I shouldn't even ask – but I'm hoping there is some part of you that is human. Some part of you that feels bad about this."

"I am totally human, but no – I don't feel sorry about what I have done."

"Then I don't call you human."

"Well, that can be debated." Justin glanced around. "I guess it's time for you and me – showdown?"

The Boy Wonder shook his head, leaning forward a little – ready to fight. "No, it's time for me to take you down. You killed that girl's family, you killed others, and you tried to kill Commissioner Gordon. You're career as an arsonist ended with tonight's fire. This I promise you."

"Arsonist, that's the only thing you have on me? Murder is more like it." Justin clenched his fists, taking a defensive stance. "You all are idiots – overlooking one of my greater works of art. How long have you been looking for the people who bombed Gotham? Hmm? 'Cause let me tell you, no one suspected me, did they? Not even you."

"You bombed the city?" The boy was a little thrown back by the statement. His confusion brought an opening for the cop before him, and the man took it – coming at Robin with great vigor.

Robin moved quickly, avoiding a potential kick to the head. He glared at his friend, fists clenched as he circled slowly, keeping his distance. Justin kept smiling, as if it were all part of the plan – and Robin were playing into the perfect trap. The young man moved fast, launching himself towards the teenager and managing to knock the boy down with one swift blow.

"I don't know how you didn't read the clues." Justin said as he moved away, not inflicting anymore damage to the boy on the floor. As if he didn't want the fight to end too soon. "I left so many for you."

Robin got to his feet, a little confused by not being hit while he was down. Leave it to a psycho to do this sort of thing. So, Justin wanted to talk? "I'm sure you did Justin."

A smooth smile, the ex-cop stepped backwards as the Boy Wonder attempted to jump at him, his fist sailing past poorly. "I was thinking how I would tell you. I've been thinking about it for a long time now."

"Tell me what?" Robin growled, ducking as Justin threw a series of kicks and punches, none of which touched the boy – but a few were too close for comfort. Once out of harms way, the teenage hero caught his breath. "Telling me that you were really _this_?"

"I've always been this, even when I was your friend. No, I'm referring to the death of your closest friends."

"You never killed them – remember, you tried but always failed. Sure, you managed to cut Annika a bit, but I'll make sure to return the favor."

"Oh no, no, no." Justin laughed a little, looking around as if Robin weren't that important. "I mean your closest friends, the ones that are dead. Barbara and Dick, Alfred? Don't tell me you forgot about them already – I knew you were use to people leaving, but this is just insane."

Robin felt his body freeze up, his jaw drop slightly and his eyes go large. His mind rushed, flinging through memories. Jim had said that Barbara had been brought to him by a man – and told that she had been in a car accident. Could it be that Justin had been the one who … "You're a liar."

Justin made a confused face. "I did kill them. The old man was easy enough, all I had to do was beat him down, tie him up, and make the bombing look like the building and its contents crushed him to death. I must say, my work looks rather believable."

"Shut up."

"And the girl – I've studied the results of car wrecks, I can make it look like you died in one with great ease. The seat belt burns across her hips - those were especially fun to create. And to think, she was alive for it all. Tortured to death – one of the more fun ones of those I killed."

The Boy Wonder ran at Justin, not sure what to believe, but finding it hard to find doubt in what was being said. He managed to get in one punch before Justin pinned him to the floor.

The man smiled, licking his bleeding lip. "Don't get so mad, I didn't do it 'cause I wanted to."

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!"

"I'm insane. Your older brother found me out, you know – after Barbara. He tried to get me, make me pay. Him and the Batman, _Bruce_."

"What?" Robin's voice was quiet. "Bruce?"

"Yeah. It took a lot of work, I couldn't physically beat the Batman, don't be foolish. It was hard enough getting Batgirl to die. It took careful planning – plus I had a special treat planned for the Bat. I wanted to get the two together. It's always much more fun having to watch someone you love die, you know?"

Robin struggled with all he had and managed to knee the man in the gut, free an arm and hit Justin hard enough so that the young man fell over. Getting to his knees, Tim didn't wait. He beat down a rain of blows on the unexpected criminal. He got in a few good, damaging hits before he was back down, on his stomach, pinned by the angered cop.

"You'll hear this story!"

"I'll kill you." Robin screamed.

"You'll hear. I tied Bruce up, good and tight, and then killed your Dick friend. I killed him right in front of the Batman – and let me tell you, it was a good show. I've heard tales of the Bat actually breaking through the tightest barriers when his partners were in trouble. I was prepared. And things went so smooth. Your friends though, they don't cry do they? But _you_ do. I like that, you aren't like them."

Robin jerked and bucked, trying to get the man on top of him off. "I'm the fuckin' same!"

Justin held tight, holding the boy's wrist so hard it snapped. "Oh dear."

The teenage masked hero let out a sharp gasp, eyes going shut and teeth grinding. He made a soft sound of pain, but nothing more, refusing to let the hurt caused to show.

"I didn't mean to hurt you already. I was going to save you till I got the Batman back. I think that when I show him that you're Robin – I think he'll remember what he forgot. And when I kill you in front of him, well, I think it will be the best murder in the history of Gotham. Even the Joker will praise me for it. Two Face, Scarecrow, all of them – they'll hate me and love me. I am the one who killed the Batman and his clan, not them. I did it! It'll be a story of torture, perhaps not as brutal as they could have been – but brutal not the less. Let me tell you though, I didn't expect Batman to loose his memories. That was just the highlight of it all."

Robin breathed steadily, eyes closed and wrist throbbing. He tried to think, not to panic. The man on top of him was becoming more and more of a monster, more and more impossible to beat. And with each moment that passed, Tim wanted more and more to kill him. To make _him _suffer.

"Cry for me and I'll reconsider. Please cry? Cry like you always do when things get to hard." Justin smiled and released his grip slightly on the boy's wounded wrist. "If you cry, I won't kill you. I promise."

Robin took the opportunity and lifted his broken wrist. He lifted it, pushing the man away, pushing Justin to the ground. He lifted his broken wrist and with it, he hit Justin – hit him hard. A beating began, and Robin didn't stop for a good time, and when Justin fought back, the boy only felt stronger – more of an urge to beat the cop. He grabbed whatever he could use to hit the man. Rocks, broken cement – anything. And when Justin was on the ground, unmoving, Robin didn't stop. It wasn't until someone called out his name that he let the beating end.

"ROBIN!" It was Bullock.

The boy suddenly felt the world rushing back to him and he stared at the lifeless form – the man he had killed. A piece of jagged cement was in his hand, bloody.

"Oh shit, Robin." Bucllock pulled the boy away from the still form and didn't say much more. "Ya' killed him."

"Yes."

"Why?"

_Why?_ "He killed them. He killed Barbara and them – that's why. He killed them and was going to kill others, and I wasn't going to let him fuckin' live. I'd kill him again if I had the -."

_Blam._

Robin fell silent at the sound of the gun going off. He looked over at Bullock who had the firearm out, having shot Justin. "Bullock?"

"He killed Barbara." Harvey replied softly, dropping the gun. "I'll tell everyone 'dat it was defense, I won't let 'da city blame ya'."

"I don't care if they blame me, I would do it again. I would -."

"I know. I want 'da blame though. If I didn't have 'da pleasure of killing 'da man who killed Commish's daughter 'den … 'den …"

Sirens were wailing in the background, and Robin wondered how long they had been sounding off now. And he didn't care. Montoya was running their way, her eyes wide as she came to a stop beside them. "What happened!"

"Self-defense is what happened." Bullock shrugged his shoulders and turned to Robin. "Ya' better get outta' here before everyone else does – understand?"

"Y-yeah."

_To be continued …_


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Author's Notes: **I think I'm going to cry! After five years of this fanfiction I have to let it go. I was like, fourteen when I wrote this thing – considering I didn't publish it till much later. Wow, that seems like forever ago! Oh well, it's done – and I feel good about it. I'm very pleased, this fanfiction is my best friends of fanfictions. I won't lie. We go way back – haha. Thanks for those who were along for the ride, I had so much fun! As of this point the fanfiction is over, but who knows … lets see if I can stay away from my baby fanfiction. ;-)

"Life's like a road that you travel on when there's one day here and the next day gone. Sometimes you bend, and sometimes you stand, sometimes you turn your back to the wind. There's a world outside ev'ry darkened door where blues won't haunt you anymore. Where the brave are free and lovers soar, come ride with me to the distant shore.Knock me down get back up again. You're in my blood; I'm not a lonely man. There's no load I can't hold - roads are rough, this I know. I'll be there when the light comes in, just tell 'em we're survivors." **  
**

_Life is a Highway _**Rascal Flats**

**Oh Silent Prayer of My Thoughts**

**By: The BatThing**

**Chapter Twenty:**

Bruce Wayne awoke with a start. He lay for a moment, growing aware of his surroundings then slowly sat up with a groan. His head was pounding and he could feel that his throat was a bit scratchy. Bruce got up and made his way to the bathroom, getting a drink and splashing some water across his face. Staring at his reflection he blinked, wondering what time it was.

A sound came from outside his door and the man stepped into the room, curious. Saul? Or maybe Tim was up? The billionaire bit his lip, reminding himself that he trusted the teenager, and not to jump to conclusions – but still. Bruce made his way to the door and entered the hall, headed towards his ward's room. He found the door slightly open, so he entered unannounced.

It was dark, but a light was coming from the bathroom – casting a rare decoration of shadows across the room. So – Tim was up. The billionaire considered calling out to the boy, but the urge to just sneak – to make double sure – was so strong. He found himself carefully headed towards the bathroom. Once he was close enough he stepped into view. "Tim?"

The boy was sitting on the edge of the counter – his back facing Bruce. The sudden unexpected voice caused Tim to spin around, almost loosing his balance. He jumped down, holding his left wrist and looking surprised. "What are you doing here?" The teenager looked awful. He was wearing wet pajama bottoms and a drenched sweat jacket. His whole expression looked drenched – rings were around his eyes, a bit of blood across his cheek and a few promising marks telling of future deep bruising.

"What the hell happened to you?" Bruce walked towards the boy, lifting a hand to touch the wounded face. "Who did this to you?"

"It's a long story. I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Well, I think we need to talk about it. You look like you just got back from a gang fight – if you could explain that would be _nice_."

Tim studied the man, not wanting to make up a story. He didn't want to plant another cover story, not when he just realized that … he was looking into Bruce's face. The man who didn't remember, the man who had seen his own child killed before him – tortured before him. Tim shook his head, feeling tears start. "I broke my wrist. It hurts."

"Oh god. I'll get Saul, we'll call up Leslie." Bruce hurried out of the room, leaving Tim. The boy stood, numb and in deep thought. If Bruce remembered, if Tim forced his mentor to remember that would mean that he would remember what made him hurt so bad – what had made him forget. _I can't do that to him. I can't let him remember. _He held his wrist gently, as if it were the world to him.

Bruce was back in the room in just a matter of seconds. "How about you have a seat till Leslie gets here – you can tell me what happened."

"I was out with some friends. We were messing around – dumb stuff – and messed with the wrong guys. I – I'm sorry." Tim didn't move to sit down. He kept standing, staring with a blank look at his wrist.

"God Tim, I thought that you said I didn't trust you? I thought you told me that you were with your friend because you wanted to talk with him about Dick's death. Was that a lie?" The man didn't actually sound that upset, rather a bit shocked.

"No, I was talking with him tonight, and he wanted to cheer me up. I guess we were just being dumb." It was like reading lines, the boy spoke with a slow monotone voice, almost unfeeling.

Bruce was quiet for a moment. "Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"You look sick."

"I'm just cold."

"Then maybe you should change into something dry?"

"I'll wait till Leslie patches me up."

Bruce got to his feet. "Let's go downstairs to wait, ok?" He watched as Tim walked into the hall – staring at his limp wrist – and wondered if the boy was actually telling the truth. "Does it hurt?"

Tim shook his head. "It'll be fine."

Leslie came and was silent as she explained the breakage and did her best to wrap it comfortably, securing it for healing. Bruce was thanking her, but she didn't seem pleased with much of anything. Her hand went down on Tim's shoulder and she bent low. "Come visit me tomorrow – alright? It's my free day, and I'd like to catch up." She nodded, signaling that she meant it.

"Right, I'll be there."

"You do that, or I'll be forced to call Bruce about it." She gave Bruce a small smile. "I'll see you later, take care."

The silence that ensued seemed too much for Saul. He cleared his throat and approached the two. "Perhaps it would be best for Master Timothy to rest? I would assume he is tired after tonight's activities."

Tim lifted his head at Saul, peering at the man with confused eyes. The butler's words had been out of duty, yes, but perhaps he felt sorry for the boy? Thinking on it didn't last long. The boy decided he didn't care either way. "I'll see you guys in the morning."

Bruce glanced at Saul and nodded towards the boy. "Alright, but when you get home from school tomorrow – we'll talk about what happened a little more. I'm not saying I don't believe you, but I just want to – hmm – want to understand more fully."

"Goodnight, Master Timothy."

"Night Tim."

The boy nodded his head as he walked up the steps, climbing them as if in a dream. His eyes appeared blind to everything, drugged almost. And when the sound of his door closing was heard, Bruce turned to Saul.

"You think I can trust what he says?"

Now it was Saul's turn to look confused. He quickly regained his stature and gave a short nod. "I am not sure I can judge the young master with what I know, Master Bruce."

"He's just been so mysterious, I feel like he's hiding something, but then – then I don't want to think that. I want to be able to trust him, he's supposed to be my 'son' and I don't even know what to think about him." Bruce lowered into a chair and lifted a hand to his head. "Maybe I'm just overanalyzing."

"The young Master came home with a broken wrist and some bad bruising. Perhaps it is safe to worry about him – I believe there would be no harm in that. It is a father's job to protect their children – is it not?" Saul didn't sit, but he looked itchy, uncomfortable. "Shall I get some coffee for you, Master Bruce – and we can continue this conversation?"

"That would be great Saul – thank you." Well, Bruce had nobody else he could talk to, so why not the butler? An ache gripped his heart as he thought of Alfred. Even though he didn't Dick and Tim, he did remember Alfred. Though, seeing as most of his thoughts seemed scattered, he wondered if his memories were even true in that area.

Saul returned with the drinks and listened with an understanding and sympathetic ear. He gave his advice when asked, and sometimes even when it wasn't asked for. Bruce seemed to appreciate the whole ordeal, but soon he told the butler goodnight and headed back upstairs for his room. He paused at his door and then lowered his head at the sound of a stifled voice coming from Tim's room.

The billionaire walked towards the door and pressed his head close, listening. At first there wasn't anything to hear, but then – out of the dark and into the World came a small high pitched scream – apparently being held back by some sort of object.

Tim was crying?

Bruce bit his lower lip, listening to the hidden sobbing. A voice, muffled from sobbing and – probably a pillow – spoke.

"_God_, _idiot_! Idiot. **Idiot**." It grew louder with each time until it was clear. Then a loud slap almost and then the sound of someone collapsing. At this point Bruce swung open the door, worried, and found Tim blinking at the light from the hall and sitting oddly on the floor. His eyes were glaring, filled with tears that were relentless.

"Tim?"

The boy tried to get up, angry with being found out, but collapsed back down and let out a pitiful cry that would break any heart. Tim shook his lowered head and then jerked it back up. He spoke with a voice that was not one Bruce was used to hearing. "Get out of my room."

"What's wrong, Tim?"

"_I said to get out of my room_!"

"No." Bruce stepped forward and Tim flung back, not standing but arching away. "God, please just tell me Tim!"

"_I'm sick of telling you things!_" Tim growled, ignoring the wet droplets that were rolling down this face. "I don't want to tell you anything anymore. I don't want to have to tell you thing!"

The man got on his knees before the boy, confused. "How – how am I supposed to care about someone I don't even trust. Someone who won't even tell me who they are?"

Tim shook his head. "Don't care about me!_ Don't!_ It's better if you just let me leave forever. Let me leave!"

"That's what you want?"

"_Yes!"_

"Why?"

Silence and Tim dropped his head again, body shaking with the horrible feeling of despair. He looked back up, blue eyes meeting his mentors and broke a heart wrenching sound and threw himself at the man, arms hugging Bruce's neck and face burring in the shoulder.

Bruce released a gasp of surprise, almost unable to believe what happened – but the arms pulling around his neck were real. He returned the hug, not sure what was happening, and somewhat scared. "Tell me what's wrong."

"D-don't let emotion get in the way." Tim stuttered, lifting his head and forcing back his tears as he looked at Bruce. _Don't let this ruin everything, just leave already. Bruce is so close to discovering …and that could mean that he'd remember. I don't want him to hurt, not like this, not like this. Please, don't ever let anyone hurt like me. _Tim held his hands to his chest, curling up on the floor, not caring that his mentor was watching. _You're strong, you're so strong. I believe in you, I believe that you can get up and leave before any more pain is caused._"

"God, Tim, god." Bruce. "SAUL!"

Tim kept to himself, arms tightly against his chest and thinking to himself. _Get up and leave, run away. I have to train, train so you can become so much stronger, train till you can protect the city and everyone in it. So many people died in the bombing, Dick, Alfred, and Barbara were murdered, Annika's family, Justin … **Justin.**_

Saul entered the room, looking surprised. "Whatever is the matter?"

"I don't know, Saul, I don't know anymore! He was crying, then I came in and he told me to leave him forever, then – then he started to cry again. I asked what was wrong and he … he said 'Don't let emotion get in the way.' Then he just curled up like this and … god, Saul. I think we better call Leslie, something is terribly wrong."

Saul nodded, seeing the panic across the man's face. "Directly."

* * *

Leslie leaned back against the chair, and shook her head at Bruce. "Stress, Bruce, he's starting to scare even me – I …" She paused, shaking her head and wondering what she should do. Tim wasn't himself. He wouldn't talk to her, he wouldn't look at her, he just lay in his bed, ignoring the woman with all he had. She was on the verge of telling his mentor the truth. Explaining that Tim was Robin, it would clear so much up.

"He's hiding something from me, something important, and I don't know what it is. He acts like he's … not who he is. I don't know how to explain it. I just know that who I see in him isn't really him." Bruce shook his head. "What should I do?"

"Current situations have been hard for him. You said you have a psychiatrist that he sees – keep that up." Leslie hated herself for what she was doing. "He's lost everything dear to him, and perhaps is afraid to trust you considering that … considering you don't remember him. It will take time, Bruce."

The man looked devastated. He already figured what she was saying. He wasn't an idiot. Tim's distrust in the man had been obvious from the beginning. There had been a hope that maybe Leslie would make things all better, after all – she was a doctor. "I've considered the possibility that this isn't the best environment for him. Leslie, I can't lie – I don't love him. I know I'm supposed to, and I care, but I have no real attachment to the boy. I've thought that maybe if he started fresh, away from me, then things might be better. He'll always have my money of course, I'll pay for what needs to be paid for."

Leslie shook her head. "No, Bruce – don't do that to him. I know you might find it hard to believe, but he has a lot of faith that you'll remember him. I wouldn't take that away from him right now. Even though he might seem hopeless, he isn't. It will just take time. Keep doing what you're doing."

"Is there any medication or -?"

"I have anti-depressants, but I'm not going to offer those at the moment. I'd like to talk with him before I can do that. At the moment he appears rather – unwilling to communicate."

"I am sorry about that, he just -." Bruce stopped speaking and looked lost. He couldn't really apologize for Tim, but he did anyway. "Thank you for coming. We'll keep you updated."

Gathering her things the doctor nodded. "You do that, I'll drop by tomorrow to see how he is doing. Goodnight, Bruce."

"Thank you, Leslie, thank you for coming out again."

"Of course, you all are very important to me." She touched his hand with a kind smile. "Things will be better in the morning, just rest."

"Thank you."

* * *

Bruce awoke early the next morning, more out of a strange habit then anything. He sat up and blinked at his clock, seeing it was exactly 6:30 am. It was an annoying habit that he was having trouble getting rid of. Throwing the covers off, he paced across the floor, getting ready for a day off of work. He figured that he would spend some time with Tim – see if that would help at all. It was worth a shot, nothing else was working.

Once bathed, dressed, and ready, Bruce made his way to the teenager's room, entering without a warning knock. He figured to find the boy still slumbering away. Though, to his surprise, he found the room empty. The bed was a wreck, and Tim's pajama's laid in a pile near the bathroom door. "Tim?"

Nothing. The boy wasn't anywhere in the room. Turning around, Bruce made his way down the stairs. He found Saul in the kitchen, but no Tim. When asked about the boy, the butler was as clueless as Bruce.

"Perhaps I should call the police? Considering last night's events, I can't help but worry."

"I think that would be a most wise decision, Master Bruce."

So the call was made, sent straight to Gotham City Police Headquarters. Rumor floated around, _Bruce_ _Wayne_ _lost_ _his_ _kid_. Description: 5"2 fifteen year old with short black hair, blue eyes, fair complexion. That, and he was on his way over to talk with a detective about the matter.

"We're just going to have to turn right back around and go to his place." A cop complained to his partner.

Robin, who had arrived early that morning, seemed oblivious to the gossip though. He sat at the desk, wearing jeans and a navy hoodie, and flipping through the pages of his text books that Bullock had assigned. The detective was currently out of duty, having taken the blame for killing Justin. The boy felt _guilty_ about that. Gordon has questioned him, but Robin simply avoided the questions.

He had made Jim pretty pissed, especially considering he just took off from the hospital. The man had lectured him about the matter, and then kept bothering Tim to tell what had happened – how he got the broken wrist, how he was so bruised up. All he got were shrugs and 'I don't want to talk about it.'

It had been … _exasperating_ to say the least.

"Yo, Gordon wants to see you in his office, kid with the sunglasses." A passing cop peered into the room, looking somewhat annoyed. "He said to put a move on it."

Robin snapped the book shut and got to his feet, lugging his backpack behind him and walking out of the room. He passed the cop in silence, knowing that he was being cold, but not much caring. It wasn't his job to accommodate.

The boy simply entered Gordon's office, no bother to knock, no bother to call out that he was coming in. He was in much too bad of a mood for such formalities. He just entered, like he owned the place. His eyes were downcast, figuring he was going to be lectured once again for not telling Jim everything he knew. And well, he didn't care. He could handle another long talk of disappointment. Tim was learning how to deal with those rather well.

"Is this your boy, Mr. Wayne?" Gordon's word's caught Tim by surprise. He felt his mouth fall open as he saw Bruce sitting at a chair before Jim's desk.

"Timothy!" Bruce was on his feet, towering above the boy, glaring. "What are you doing _here_."

Tim couldn't speak – he literally couldn't find any words. His mouth was dry, and his tongue seemed to get sticky. He just gazed in awe at the two men, not sure what to be more surprised about. The fact that Jim now knew his identity or the fact that Bruce was about ready to learn his secret.

"You lied to me, Tim! You _used_ my trust! Everything you said has been a lie. There is a lot you're going to have to explain." Bruce turned to Gordon and held out his hand as he shook his head, looking apologetic. "I want to thank you for your help, and sorry that … that we've been so much trouble. Though, perhaps you might enlighten me as to why he was here – and if he comes here a lot?"

"I think that is something Timothy should tell you, Mr. Wayne." Jim made a stressed smile, shaking his hand and releasing just as fast. He was hurting, and it was obvious. "And no need to apologize."

Tim looked at Jim and felt his heart sink. "I – uh - I, um, I-I'm sorry … sorry." He was speaking to Gordon, but Bruce took it as an apology for him.

"You've tried that before, it's lost its effect on me." The man grabbed the boy's upper arm and nodded once more to Jim. He was a bit upset with the commissioner for not telling him more than he had, but there wasn't much to do about that now. "Thank you."

"Of course."

Tim allowed himself to be pulled out of the room, looking desperately at Jim – trying to think of a way he could apologize enough. The door closed, killing the chance. All eyes were on him, and at one point the two passed Montoya, whose smile died the moment she saw Tim's expression and Bruce's glare.

All the way out of the building and into the car, Bruce dragged the boy. Once the doors were closed, he turned to face Tim. "Tell me what the hell you were doing there."

"I work there." Tim whispered, feeling his stomach growing more and more upset. The chance of getting sick was become very likely. He had been found out, there was no more lying, no more sneaking around it. Everything was out in the open. "I work for Commissioner Gordon."

"That's absurd, you haven't time for that – you have school and then you're home." Bruce paused and then cursed. "You don't go to school – do you?"

"N-no."

"And _Commissioner_ Gordon allowed this?!"

Tim looked up into the man's face. "Bruce … he didn't know. He didn't know who I was. He thought I was someone else, which I am, but … I was home schooled there. I had a tutor and everything. I wasn't falling behind in school, in fact, I think I'm ahead now."

Bruce didn't care about that, he was seeing red. "I don't believe this."

"I'm sorry."

"What kind of work did you do for him?!"

"I can't tell you."

"You _will _tell me."

"I can't."

"Get out of the car, come on." Bruce got out and walked over, pulling the boy out and dragging him back towards the headquarters, ignoring the protests and attempts to get free. He was three times as big as Tim, and much stronger. His clutch wasn't about ready to break. The whole way back to the office, Tim threw a fit practically, gaining everyone's attention.

"LET ME GO! BRUCE!" Tim knew if Bruce found out … then he could possible remember. And if Bruce remembered, well, things would be _awful_. Bruce would be so hurt, so, so, so fucking _hurt_. "LET ME _GO_!"

"What's wrong?" Montoya questioned, seeing the two once more. Her questions was ignored by Bruce, but Tim gave her a desperate look.

"Please, Montoya – Renee, _help me_." Tim pulled away from his mentor, but it didn't do any good. Bruce turned around and snatched him right back, holding his arm and pulling him forward, towards Gordon's office.

"You need an appointment, sir!" A woman said as they passed her desk. "You can't go in there without an appointment scheduled."

The door opened and Gordon peered out to see what the problem was. He saw Bruce and Tim and sighed. "It is fine, Anna. Come on in."

"Jim! Don't tell him anything. Jim – trust me, _please_."

The door closed, slammed shut, Bruce was absolutely mad. He glared at Gordon. "Tell me everything or I'll turn you in for this. I'll make you tell me if you don't -."

Gordon lifted his hands. "Mr. Wayne, please sit down."

Tim was dragged over to a seat, and shoved down into it, where he trembled. "Jim, trust me, he can't know. He can't, it's about … it's about Justin and if he finds out then …"

"Timothy here had worked for me for the past few months. I was unaware that he was your ward – Mr. Wayne. Had I known I would have never … anyhow, I didn't know. I took the boy under my care when he told me he had no family to stay with, or rather – I forced him to live with me. I didn't like the idea of him dying simply because he was stubborn."

"What are you talking about?" Bruce was lost already; he didn't understand what was being said. Tim had family! And how could he die?

"Your son – he's Robin."

There was a pause and Bruce shook his head. "What? Who the hell is Robin?"

"You've never heard of Batman and Robin? Timothy is Robin – and I assume that you were … you would have to be …" He looked at Tim, who was covering his face, and then back at Bruce. "You're the Batman – you were the Batman."

"B-Batman." Bruce looked shocked as he leaned back, shutting his eyes momentarily. A fluttering feeling tingled in his stomach, etching slowly, gaining stride until he felt his whole body start to go numb. His thoughts came at such a speed, connecting the dots of this mystery. Tim was Robin. Tim was Robin … that would explain everything. Tim was Robin and … no.

_Bruce and Dick were in the cave, the darkness surrounding them - flickering with the light of the candle nearby. It was a pact being made, a bond of blood. "And what is it you want to call yourself?"_

_Dick's face was upturned, big blue eyes staring with a masked excitement. "Robin."_

"_Batman and Robin."_

Bruce lifted his hands to his face. _Batman and Robin – Robin became a man, turned into Nightwing. Tim came into the picture then. And …and he remembered blood all over, Dick's blood. And no tears, though there was fear in the young man's face as he stared at his mentor – slowly being killed. _Bruce hadn't been able to save him, he had let his son die – the son that had trusted him to protect him. He had let Dick die. _I let Dick die._

"E-excuse me." Bruce got to his feet, pushing away from the chair and looking at Tim for a moment, then leaving the room in a rush. As if he were going to be sick, and couldn't move fast enough.

"I told you not to tell him!" Tim managed to hiss at the commissioner, trembling all the more. "He remembers, god – he remembers _everything_! What am I g-going to do now?"

Gordon was silent at first, doing his best not to be unfeeling, and doing his best to be a man about the whole situation. He looked at the boy he had considered his son, the boy that had saved him. The boy that had healed him. The boy was going to go away now. "I don't see the problem – if he remembers then that means that you'll -."

Tim shook his head, taking off his sunglasses and glaring at the man. "I told you not to say anything. I – I … I better …" He stood up and left the room, following his mentor. _Bruce, god – I'm so sorry. _Tim shook underneath the warm hoodie as he made his way out to the parking lot, going to the car and found his mentor there – inside, staring at nothing. Without saying a word Tim opened the door and slipped, then shut the two in the car.

Bruce glanced his way and then back out the window, saying nothing. The silence was more painful than the whole time the boy had gone without his mentor. It hurt because he knew how bad Bruce had to be hurting, and that wasn't a pleasant feeling. The knowledge that the person who was supposed to protect you, knowing that they were hurting – it was scary.

_But he's back._

Tim felt his body start to shake more rapidly, jaw buckling – making the only noise in the dreaded silence.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Bruce whispered, not looking at the boy.

"I-I dunno." Tim's voice shook as he spoke, scared – so scared. "I didn't want you to hurt. I didn't want you to remember what happened to Dick, Alfred and Barbara. I know, I mean, it was … God, I'm sorry!"

"You've been very strong."

"B-Bruce." Tears were running now as the boy turned and latched his arms around his mentor's neck, pulling himself to the man, his whole body trembling. He was so scared, not wanting to loose the man again. "_Please_ be ok."

Bruce didn't fight the boy, allowing him to cling as he did. It was alright. Closing his eyes, the billionaire released a sigh, moving a hand up to rest on one of the arms around him. "You've been a good solider."

And Tim held his guardian as he had his share of tears over the matter.

* * *

**_Two Weeks Later:_**

"This is your new home?" Annika was holding Tim's pillow as she, Jim, and Tim walked up the stairs of the Manor. The girl had never seen anything so large in her life. "It's a castle, isn't it?"

"I guess it kind of is." Tim admitted to the girl with a smile. He pushed the large doors open and motioned for the two to enter, and once they were inside he followed behind. "This is my house."

"I don't see why you want to leave us." The girl said in a quiet voice. "I thought we were going to be brother and sister."

Jim dropped a bag he was carrying and looked at Annika. "He still can be, but this is his real home. His dad lives here, so he needs to too."

The girl handed Tim the pillow and watched as an older man came towards her. "Who is that?" She whispered, clinging to Gordon.

"Annika, this is Bruce." Tim said as he nodded in the man's direction. "I live with him now."

"He's big." She whispered to Jim.

"Thanks for coming and brining Tim's things here." Bruce shook hands with Gordon and smile down at Annika in a simple manner. He was glad to see that Jim had this girl with him; it was probably making things easier. The pain Gordon was feeling was obvious, letting Tim go like he was. "You will stay for dinner?"

Jim shook his head at this. "Annika and I agreed to get some Dairy Queen tonight; she's wanted a Blizzard for the last few days. I promised we'd go." A reasonable excuse, mostly real – mostly thought, Jim didn't think he could stand staying any longer. "We had better get going."

Tim moved towards the Commissioner and gave a sad smile. "Thank you, Jim …for everything. Just because I'm leaving doesn't mean it will change things between us. You're … you're still important to me. Nothing changes."

"Of course not." Jim replied with a forced smile. "We'll see you later then. Be sure to call if you need anything."

Annika and he started for the doors, and Tim couldn't stand it. "JIM!"

The commissioner paused.

"I'm sorry." Tim forced himself between Jim and Annika, hugging the man and placing his head against his chest. "I'm sorry I lied. I'm sorry I'm leaving. I'm sorry about Barbara. I'm sorry I've been such a pain in the fuckin' ass, I'm sorry about Bullock getting the blame – I'm sorry I was so mean to you when all you did was care about me and I'm sorry that -."

"Hey, hey – HEY!" Jim stopped the rambling apologizes and pulled Tim away from him. "No need to be sorry, I'm not upset with you at all. I just … I just know I'm going to miss you. Though, it won't be bad – you're going to be happy now, right?"

"R-right."

"And you were right." Jim pulled Tim back into his arm, smiling at Bruce. "He's back, and I think you've earned the right to be happy. I think all of us have, right? It's been a hard time, but it's finally over."

Bruce approached the three, he meet Gordon's eyes. The two were such old friends, such good friends – and Jim had proved his loyalty. "Thank you, Jim. Thank you for taking care of him."

"It has been my pleasure."

Tim smiled then, moving away from Gordon and over to where Bruce stood. He smiled and caught Annika's gaze.

"There you go." The girl said suddenly, smiling right back at Tim with a small squeal. "You're _smiling_ for real! I see it! I see it!"

Bruce looked confused at this, but Tim dropped to his knees, looking at the girl with the same smile. He couldn't help it, happiness surrounded him, and he was so warm. Bruce was going to be ok, Jim was going to be ok, Annika was going to be ok, and he … he was loved. Loved as Tim Drake, who he really was – no more masks, no more secrets. It was all out in the open now, and it was all ok. "You and I are going to need to hang out more, Annika."

"Why?"

"So you can meet the real me."

Annika made a confused face.

Tim took her hand and shook it. "My name is Tim Drake."

She cocked her head and then smiled back at him, starting to shake his hand back. "My name is Annika, Tim."

"It's nice to meet you, Tim." Gordon chimed, kneeling down to see the two and laughing a little. He put an arm around Annika and shook his head in good humor, holding the girl close to him and starting to feel better about the whole ordeal.

Tim saw Bruce looking rather uncomfortable and jumped to his feet, springing right at his mentor with the same smile. He was caught by Bruce, and the man couldn't help but look surprised as he held the boy.

"We're going to be ok, right?"

There was a moment of silence and then Bruce slowly returned the smile. He nodded his agreement. "We're going to be perfectly ok."

Tim lifted his head a little, and nodded. Things weren't perfect yet, things weren't back to a normal routine yet, but things were 'ok'. And the promise his mentor made to him was easy to believe, and so Tim did. Bruce said they were going to be perfectly ok.

So that meant they were.

And Tim kept smiling.

THE END

**Jester Joker: **Thanks so much for the reviews! Yeah, apparently I was pretty obvious he was the bad guy. Darn that! LOL. Oh well, at least I was able to surprise you and have Robin kill him. I don't think that's good, but we'll pretend it is. Thanks so much for the read! Thanks, thanks, and thanks!! XD

**Delia Ra'Nar: **It was you who suggested the Bat-Glare! I knew it was somebody, I kept searching and searching to see who – and it was you! Annika's name comes from a friend of mine. Actually it's the kids I baby-sit. Their names are Annika and Quinn, lol. So yeah. I love the name Annika, it's so cute. Thanks for always leaving great reviews, I'll miss reading them. You were always great at getting to think about what I should write to make it better. You'd make a good editor I bet, I do, I do. Thanks so much for all the feedback, you're awesome like that. I really do owe you – part of this fanfiction is for you, lol.

**Trunksblue: **BFF of fanfiction, lol. Yeah, Justin is a sick-o, he's evil like that. I'd say goodbye to you, but I know you from so many places. I'm like a crazy person that you can't get rid of – you know, SON? Well, yeah. Anyhow, thanks for the words, you're always a help at these fanfictions.

**Terra89: **What is PM? Is that like IM? I wasn't sure. Whatever it is I'll do it, 'cause I'm often bored, lol. Especially now that the fanfiction is done, sigh, I'm sad. Yeah – Justin is insane in the membrane. Luckily he's dead in the city now, ha. Go Harvey indeed, he kicks butt. Thanks for making me laugh, haha, your reviews always were great to read. They kept me on my toes, different reviews are cool reviews. Randomness is accepted!

**Chocogirl**: Thanks for the kind words – I'm so glad you like it, I'm super glad you like it. Way too glad you like it. HA! Anyhow, I spaced out for a second there when I was typing. Gordon is hot stuff, he's awesome in so many ways. In fact, in the last Batman movie he was the only good thing. I mean, Christian Bale plays an ok Batman, but Jim Gordon was awesome. Let's face it.

**JLA Fan: **Thanks! Yeah, another chapter another month, lol. Takes me forever to do these things, bleh. Thanks for the review, I'm so happy you liked it. XD I'm happy, happy, joy, joy and dancin'. Keep in touch!

**Superfan: **Yeah, the start of this really is crappy. I did write it a long time ago, though there isn't much of an excuse there, lol. I'm learning that I really am not the hottest writer, taking this creative writing class and man – talk about writers. They're totally awesome. I bet you're one of those awesome writers, seeing as I had to look up words in your review, lol. I'm dumb like that. Oh well. Thanks for the review – and while I can't ask you to read it, if you do … feel free to E-mail me any comments or suggestions. I'd love to hear them. XD


End file.
